Celtic Women

I'll admit that I love the Irish. I wash I was Irish. I want a strong Irish jawline and a handful of rowdy relatives to serve in my gang of street thugs, waging war against the neighboring Ukranian community or other continental gangs (the Irish have had a long standing alliance with other island peoples like the Puerto Ricans, Fijians, and those oh so cute Tamil Tigers). So, in addition to this fairytale gang life, the Irish have a fairly absurdly attractive female population with an accent that melts you in love and/or fear. I love Irish women.

All that said, you would have to be a complete tool to pay for tickets to see "Celtic Women". Even if you gave me a ticket and a ride to the show, I don't think I would go. There isn't really a good way to explain my aversion to this unbelievably miserable event. Just watch, it's incredibly alluring, but let me tell you now: these women singers and fiddlers are not peasants from the Dark Ages brought to the future by some Bill and Ted-esque device, nor will they fall in love with you. They work for the Irish Embassy. They know English and Gaelic. That's it. Adults grown in a pound of child stars fed sugar water out of upside down bottles and forced to perform old Irish tunes for treats and for fecal clean up.