Revealed: St. Patrick’s Raging Alcoholism
“MEAD. That was the tough one. It’s hard to stand on the side of a hill and convert a thousand Celts the morning after you’ve had a fucking skinful of Mead,” said St. Patrick, mournfully taking a drag on an Amber Leaf rollie as he stared out across the tundras of heaven.
Patrick, who recently opened up about his crippling alcohol addiction that lead to him accidentally turning a nation of perfectly happy atheists into a war-town sectarian nightmare of Catholics versus Protestants, spoke exclusively to WWN about how his hard upbringing lead to him hitting the bottle at an early age.
“You know, when you’re snatched from your family, shipped overseas to a strange land and ordered to mind sheep on the side of a hill in Glendalough for six years, the whiskey becomes your only friend,” said the saint, who hasn’t touched a drop since his beatification.
“And the shit that I pulled when I was on the drink, man, it’s unbelievable. I remember I was on a four day bender when this one snake bit me…. I just fucking lost it, man. Chased every one of those bastards off the island, every fucking one. I had a few disciples that were all like, ‘hey, Patrick, let it go man, it’s not worth it’ but I was just possessed. Every fucking snake, pow! Into the ocean”.
Looking on at the drunken behaviour of people on the feast day named after him, St. Patrick expressed disappointment that people were insisting that getting drunk was ‘just part of Paddy’s day’, but accepted that everyone has to find their own path.
“When I was on the drink, you couldn’t talk to me about it,” said Patrick, sipping a non-alcoholic beer.
“And so it is with Irish people today. You can lecture them about their dysfunctional relationship with alcohol, but they just have to come to their own conclusions about it. I just wish they’d look more closely at every image of me and see the wreck I was at the time. You think I’m holding a crozier for the look of it? Fuck no, if I didn’t have it with me to prop me up, I’d be on the fucking ground”.
Although he’s glad to be sober now, Patrick does have some fond memories about his drinking days.
“The shit with the shamrock was funny alright,” said the saint, with a giggle.
“Yeah, that was fun. I can’t believe people bought what I was saying. I was off my fucking face, but I suppose the whole Holy Trinity, three leaf shamrock shit had some sort of drunken sense to it. Not adopt-this-as-a-symbol-of-your-nation sense, but funny nonetheless”.
If St. Patrick’s relationship with alcohol sounds familiar and you feel you need help, wait until after the bank holiday weekend as you’ll be missing a serious session.