Faith an' begorrah! A happy St. Patrick's t' ye! While I don't have a new script for anyone to read, 'tis the season for an old script to make an appearance, I think, as we tip our hats to the Irish. Go take another look, lads an' lasses: Erin Goes Braughhh.

Me, I celebrated at lunch today with a McD's Shamrock Shake. No, they haven't gotten any better.

Ulb.
...

It looks as if we're not only going to war, but it's probably a matter of days at this point. While I think invading Iraq is the smart move right now (though the wife disagrees), I can't help but feel a bit nervous... living in such a targeted area, that is. Isn't LA the embodiment of everything Saddam hates about our culture? I half expect the nukes shall fly and, when they do, I only hope they land directly on my car as I'm lurching down the 405.

But, as war looms, I'm also slightly concerned about the trip that my sister Lauren and my dad are planning for this weekend. They'll be flying in this Saturday and leaving the following Wednesday and part of me wonders if this weekend isn't the best time to be in the air, flying across the country. I'm sure it's fine, though.

I'm sure it's fine.

Hhh.
...

At least we can all rejoice that Elizabeth Smart has been returned safely to her family. Hooray! Er... at least I think we can rejoice. (Is it just me or is her dad every bit as creepy as the guy that kidnapped her? Here's hoping that college comes quickly for Liz.)