*Chaplains, ministers, witchdoctors, whatever.

This morning, when I went out for a walk, some moron in the Holiday Inn parking lot next door hollers out at me in the worst Irish accent you could image "St Patrick's day is over laddie!"

Yeah. I was kilted.

With all my might, I was able to banish the thought of strangling him from my mind.

Before I realised what was happening though, my mouth took this moment of distraction from my brain and said (while perfectly mimicking the bad accent) "Were ye molested by the Lucky Charms Leprechaun as a lad?"

He made a terrible face of shock and horror... Got very upset, got in his car, and slammed the door.

I have been been working very hard to control my temper... And I know I should feel bad about letting this slip.

But I can't seem to muster up any guilt over the situation. Please forgive me.