Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Thelma without Louise. Sherlock sans Holmes. Shaggy with no Scooby Doo. Australia with no Ahmad, is like St. Patrick’s Day without green beer… so I decided to drink Guiness. My goodness!

Happy St. Patrick’s Day, McCarthy. The leprechaun on the left closely resembles you. I think. Actually, its more like Fulsies' black fro with a dirty, grubby, grimy DMC beard.

I am currently typing from the Beach Motel bar, where no more than three months before, Dr. Dyck and I enjoyed on our Byron Bay bar crawl. It was this night he found his love of meat pies and I found my love of recording obliterated backpackers trying to hide from the police in bushes. Johnny, I’m coming home soon brother. Make sure my room is still purple… er lavender… ah, that is a manly off-blue before my arrival on the 26^th.

I flew into Gold Coast this morning at 8AM, picked up yet another white Toyota Corolla and headed out 25km past the shire and to Nimbin to buy souvenirs for my family. After purchasing my Father’s gift I headed to a… eh… clothing store? That is, if you can identify any shop in Nimbin as having only durable textile goods. Many items in Nimbin are perishable. And by that I mean smokeable.

“Hi there! I am trying to find a gift for my Mum and Sister. Any thoughts?”

“Sure.”

She floats on over to the candle, incense, and bead embedded wall. She reaches into a wooden woven basket and pulls out a pair of Nimbin-marijuana-leaf-embedded underwear.

“Come on! Not cool! Really? How about something more necklace like?”

I left the store and headed to the next everything store.

“Yello! Hi there! I am trying to find a gift for my Mum and Sister. Whaddya think?”

Mary smiles at me, eyes dental floss-ish open, and walks over to a wall with assorted t-shirts, sun dresses, and bongs. She reaches up to a shelf and grabs a pair of marijuana-G-strings.

“Really? No way! What is going on here!”

Apparently, Oedipus Rex was a Nimbinian. Time to get out of high-dodge and head to Byron Bay. Here I am on my personal unwind, drinking a Guinness on the beach, celebrating St. Patrick’s Day different than ever before – elated. And for the first in many a 17 March, without 15 green beers in me. Ahmad, I am off now to find Frankie. FRANKIE! And the Dude is meeting me out at the bar tonight to celebrate the holiday. He's gonna wear his green leather jacket. DUDE!

Whiskey is the Life of Man, I Drink it From an Ole Tin Can,

Ole McBornemeier