The Cluster-F That Is Parade Day

13 Mar


Every year around this time, some of my girlfriends begin gearing up for the Southie St. Patty’s Day parade. And every year, I sit this one out. Other than a party bus that has no restroom, nothing sounds more unappealing to me than the Southie parade on St. Patty’s Day. Nothing. I haven’t stepped foot into South Boston on parade day since 1992, unless I was dropping someone off at the ass crack of dawn. Why? It’s not because I don’t have Irish pride, I do. And it’s not because I don’t like drinking with friends and celebrating my Irish pride. I do that most weekends, so how could I complain?

What bothers me about the St. Patty’s day parade is that it is the biggest cluster fuck of total trashiness I could ever imagine. Crowds that are a mix of families and drunks (nothing more of a buzz-kill than binge drinking around children). People trying way too hard to express their Irish heritage by wearing green shirts they purchased at Old Navy for $5, green beads and douchebag shamrock glasses from Iparty. People who aren’t Irish doing the same thing because it’s another excuse to drink.  A guy friend of mine has called parade day “White Trash Day”, and although  my friends that attend the parade are not white trash, I have to agree that parade day as a whole is white trashy. Aside from the college/yuppy roof-deck slop-fests, there are also T-rats who doze off midway to Broadway station, Big Gulps in tow, rocking shamrock pajamas so they can  pull  down their drawstrings to pee with ease in between buildings as innocent families stand witness, shielding their children’s eyes from the horror. I hope they serve Big Gulps in hell.

Not only is this entire day a cluster F but it is one of those days that has become a “thing”, and I hate “things”. People ask you if you are going to the parade, you say you are not, they look at you in shock as if you are totally devastated not to be in attendance. You know, actually I am 100% fine with not going, thanks for the concern. I’m sorry, I am not in the mood to beg a business owner to let me use their public restroom so I can pee and or puke in a toilet where someone probably peed and or puked 3 minutes before me. I am also not a freshman in college looking for entrance to random parties so I can get blackout status and sleep on a strangers coffee table, waking up in the morning to someone’s grandmother screaming (probably). No judgement if that’s your thing, but I think I prefer my hangovers  served with a side of regret from the comfort of my own coffee table.

This parade has become such a “thing” for people around the Boston area to go to, that I am sure that people from Southie hate us. I mean, how would we like it if people from Southie started turning our hometown celebrations into a full on slop fest? Fuckin’ Southie lifers showing up, drunk since 9am,  funneling Bud Lights through those plastic parade horns they sell during our Flag Day parade. Pissing all over Hough’s Neck in front of children on the 3rd of July in a pair of American flag pajamas. People everywhere, talking all trashy, screaming about someone’s mother during the fireworks…cluster fuck central.

I know what you’re thinking: I am a buzz kill. But no, I love drinking holidays as much as the next pale white ass lush. But when a drinking holiday turns from a hometown good time (such as Thanksgiving Eve), to a cluster fuck of trashy proportions, that’s when I am no longer down. The only thing worse than parade day in Southie are championship parades. For some reason I’ve gone to three of these parades. Boston pride displaying itself by way of surrounding ourselves with a billion people and drinking cheap vodka out of a Poland Springs bottle. But that’s for another blog…

For a good read about parade day from a Southie girl herself, check out Heather Foley’s blog on

How To Be A Lady On St Patrick’s Day


One Response to “The Cluster-F That Is Parade Day”

  1. Teresa Tower- Sousa March 14, 2013 at 4:20 pm #

    “I hope they serve Big Gulps in hell.” You are too much! So funny!

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