Know Nothings

Why does every St. Patrick's Day bring the absolute dregs of society out into the open?

I went out for a walk on St. Patrick's morning at around 11am. In a wooded area near where I live there were 15 young scumbags congregated, armed with bags of drink. At 11am. Each one had a Celtic top on and one or two had draped the national flag around their shoulders. They were noisy, shouting at the top of their voices to the wanker standing next to them, and smashing their empty bottles on the pavement.

Some display of Irishness. If I had asked them who the Taoiseach is, or what is the county town of Clare, their eyes would have have bulged, and then their heads would have exploded. They know nothing of their country's history or culture, or even of St. Patrick himself - no, they show celebrate Ireland's national holiday by dressing in the shirt of a British football team and wearing the national flag, of which they know nothing of it's meaning.

Let's round them up and chainsaw them to death. It's the only way.