Maybe too late for St. Patrick's day, but "who fuckin' cares", as Lucky the Bastard Leprechaun would say. Drinking yourself to a slow pitiful death should be an everyday endeavour - Good Luck and enjoy this letter to a friend from a couple of years ago.....
Dear Catherine,
Welcome back home. I'll be your guide while you are back, Lucky the Bastard Leprechaun. I live in the statue, and I'm cooler than The Great Kazoo from the Flintstones. Unlike your previous Leprechaun guide, I will not be encouraging you to light fires. However, I will advise you on important issues like:

1) Fold the toilet paper or not?
2) How long has it been in the fridge, it's ok right?
3) How can you go wrong with MSG?
4) Where is the pain, and who do I have to hit to get rid of it?
5) Should I light a fire? Or is that a good voice in my head or a bad one?
6) Is that good touching or bad touching?
7) Is it appropriate to humiliate him now, or should I wait until later when only his coworkers are present.
8) Time? Why the hell is everyone living 30 minutes in the future?
9) Nobody will notice if I just slip out for few hours/drinks?
10) SPAM and Kids = Good; SPAM and Cats = Anal Spasms?
11) Who wouldn't like a knuckle sandwich?
12) When it is alright to go through a coworkers personal belongings, or pant pockets?

I look forward to helping you with these and many of the other multitude of daily dilemmas which will face you everyday. To call on me you must kiss the statue three times, no tongue, as we don't want to make it too obvious that you are loony or randy!

Love ya,



Lucky The Bastard Leprechaun.