We get plastic Irish pubs out here but they don’t even know it’s St Patrick’s Day and I don’t fancy sitting in a half-empty overpriced establishment watching Rhianna on a widescreen….
I miss the days when there were queues to get into a pub on St Paddy’s Day and it involved lots of drinking, poon, vomiting and a bit of a ruckus. And singing the Wild Rover and I Wish I were Back In Liverpool at some point.
