St. Patrick's Night

WOW. That's how I usually start when trying to describe the fun I had on the night of St. Patrick's Day. Irish pub culture is amazingly fun. It has been quite difficult to put the total feeling into words.

...But I guess I should try. When you walk into a pub every single person has something fun to say and it takes little if any encouragement to get it out of them. Extreme extroverts, every last one of them. I'm pretty sure the word pretentious doesn't even exist in the Irish dictionary because everyone receives the same arm-over-the-shoulder reception. Friendly is not always an accurate word, though, because these guys have tempers with hair triggers. Luckily they forget their anger as soon as someone puts a fresh beer in their hands. Without a doubt St. Patty's in Dublin will go down as one of my best European experiences.

Who are these guys? What did we talk about? Could they be any more photogenic?

Yes, that 'Killer' tattoo was homemade prison-style. A closeup of that impressive grill is available upon request.

We followed these guys for what must have been a couple miles away from the main tourist zone to a street of clubs populated by locals only. They kept the hike interesting by singing songs, making obscene gestures toward the passing taxis, and of course running with their pants down. Shortly after this photo was taken they took off their shirts in an apparent attempt to better appreciate the rain/snow mix and subzero wind chill. Good times.