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Top O’the Mornin’ to Yeh

Hi. I’m Irish.

Picked entirely because I'm actually wearing green.

I know what you’re thinking, “no, you’re not. You’re some kind of Mexican.”

Actually, I’m Chinese-Filipino-Italian-and, wait for it, -Irish.

“Loman,” is actually the Irish spelling. With “Lohman” being Scottish and “Lowman” being English. That might be vice-versa. Or not true at all and completely made up by my grandfather, but he’s 90 and fought in both theaters of operation during WWII, so we let him make up whatever he wants. He shot down 13 Zeros. What have you done with your life?

My name is actually pretty Irish, Matthew Loman, but the Asian and Italian heritage are the cultures that were impressed on me the most. My grandmother was first-generation Italian, the first of her family to be born here, in Chicago, and she still didn’t speak English until she was six and the city made her go to school. She was less than thrilled that at no point did her parents try to help her learn English and just shipped her off to first grade.

I was actually born in the Philippines and flew to America with my mom to be with my dad when I was only a couple of months old. Though thanks to Filipino hereditary laws I was born an American citizen. *drinks a Bud as eagles soar overheard*

The Lomans, however, were here for some time, so far back that no one remembers when they came over from Ireland. They can trace themselves back to their ranches and farms in Oklahoma and up into the Dakotas, but after that the Lomans’ origins are lost to time. They are simply Americans.

Ironically, despite my name, an affinity for beer from Ireland (the entire United Kingdom, actually), and my favorite soccer team being Celtic FC (which is actually in Scotland, but founded by Irish immigrants [second favorite being Arsenal]), I have very little connection to my Irish heritage.

Man. I need to visit there.

Except on St. Patrick’s day when I milk it for everything it’s worth.

And you can, too.
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Do. Not. F-ck. Me. On. This.

It appears that nearly everyone in my life is getting married/already married. It inspired me to write this.

*-*-*

by Jeff Larson

Guys, tonight, some stuff’s going to happen.

Weird stuff.

No guff, you’re going to see some shit, and unless you’re a filthy fucking degenerate like Williams over there, it’s going to challenge you. It will shake your spiritual and your entire emotional development to the core.

Gentlemen, this is why we go to Vegas. To challenge ourselves, to grow spiritually, and to remind ourselves what a 19-year-old single mom’s vagina looks like.
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