But first, please take a moment to pause. And remember the people we've loved and lost, this year...
Moving on, I discovered that I need two things in my life, in order to achieve pure happiness. A dog, and a hog. Hog meaning a motorcycle, of course. I've always wanted a nice Fat Boy Harley. It's the ultimate symbol of anti-social, bad assery. And I am nothing, if not a complete anti-social. Oh, and this brings me to the question I was gonna ask in a previous blog, but forgot to ask. So here it is: Your single and free. I show up at your door one day on my hog and politely demand that you road trip with me to the Sturgis Bike Rally, for the weekend. Do you go? And this is just for the ladies, okay? No way I'm taking a guy to Sturgis. At least not without getting a nice dinner, first. 
I'm loving how I want a motorcycle so bad, but I could barely ride a bicycle in a park without losing my footing on the pedals. Slicing my legs open, as I crash ear first, into a thorn berry bush. I figured I'd last about 6 months to a year before I try and do something physically impossible and give up the ghost, on an interstate highway. What's your prediction?
And I'd be just as bad of a dog owner as I would be as a bike owner. I don't even want to change a diaper. Much less carry around a poop scoop, for an animal that I own. Wtf is that all about? Who's really controlling who, here? I once babysat one of my sisters kids. And waited around for a good hour or so, before I gave in and decided to attempt at a change. Luckily for me (and the poor child), my sis came home. Just in time to prevent me from permanently scaring her son, for life. So what do you think ladies? Sounds like good father material, right? The line starts at the nearest puke bucket...
Maybe I can do what they did on an episode of The Simpsons. Which was cheat and buy an adult dog, that's already been perfectly trained. Nobody would know I didn't put in the work. Except maybe my sister. 
Well that's pretty much all I've had swirling around in my brain, since I jealously shat on Valentines Day, in my last blog. Other than still looking for a job, a car and a place of my own. But nobody want's to read about how I suck at life, right? I know I don't. I think my penis has been secretly checking the want ads, for unics, that might want to adopt him. Can't say I blame him, one bit.
And now, what you've all been waiting for. Repetitive, semi-funny memes!
And someone was kind enough to point this one out to me...
Thanks, mom. 
Two things to keep in mind about Edinburgh: you meet surprisingly few Scots around here, because with the University students come in from all over. Americans are commonplace. Second: Ireland is really close by.
So there was actually quite a bit of action in the Burgh for St. Patrick's day, including lines around the block at the Irish pubs. I heard at least one bar was giving free entry to anyone Irish. And lots of Americans were out partying for the night, as I could tell by their accents. So, yeah, it's as big a deal as it was in any area of the US I have ever lived in.