MMD.

As you all know, today is MMD.
What? You weren't aware of the fact? That surprises me, for it's the one day in the year I'm the only sane and sober person in the region, or so it seems.
It wasn't so long ago that the 17th March meant little or nothing to the French, and then they figured out that it could be useful as ANOTHER day to get smashed, have tomorrow off work as "ill" generally create mayhem and they duly adopted the correct word for it, and started calling, in French, anyone of a certain type, an
" 'ooligan " - freely translated from "hooligan".
Bars and cafe's started offering special evening's, with the possibility of tasting anything up to 50 different whiskeys, most of them without water, and all of them (at least after the first 10) tasting the same. Swilled down with the occasional pastis in between (for the water content), these whiskies led to a state of mind only to be found, normally, in the country of the whiskeys orgins. However, the French found it 'chic' and 'sympa' and looked long and hard to find something which could be eaten on this special occasion, something which would reflect the high standard of this great whiskey producing country.
All they could find was the SPUD!
The idea was rapidly put back into the family closet, and since that day, when the French celebrate MMD (Mad Mick's Day - or St. Patricks - or St Patrice) the table is covered, mainly, with glasses of whiskey, and daintily vomited little piles of mashed spuds.
The more intelligent French (and they do exist) declared out of hand that the Irish were, in fact, really remote relations to the Bretonnes in the Bretagne, and covered their tables with all the products of the Bretagne, taking only a little of the fiery water as an Aperatif.
Personally you wouldn't find me within 20yards of a MMD bar on this day! Nonetheless - have a nice one if you're doing it!

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