The History of The Irish Car Bomb

 

If you’re anything like me, going to the bar is a real drag unless you have a deep historical knowledge of the drinks you’re drinking. Like, why would anyone want to drink a margarita if they didn’t know a damn thing about what goes into making one or the tradition behind it? 

 

I don’t know about you guys, but if that’s the case, color me sober. However, since I have a difficult time enjoying anything while sober, I’ve spent a great deal of time researching the history of my favorite alcoholic beverages. In light of St. Patrick’s Day, I’d like to share the history of the Irish Car Bomb with all of my loyal readers, as this drink is as interesting as it is delicious. 

 

It all started 167 years ago today in the small Ireland town of O’carboma. A group of Irishmen were sitting around their favorite bar, McDonald’s, drinking Shamrock Shakes like there wasn’t a potato famine in sight. At this time, Shamrock Shakes were nothing but Bailey’s Irish Cream and green food coloring, and McDonald’s only served booze. 

 

Anyway, this particular group of people was actually more like a gang as they were notorious for getting tricked-out wasted at all hours of the day and starting bar fights. They called themselves the Ginger Fucks or G-Fucks for short, wore matching green blazers, and most importantly, commonly experimented with different combinations of alcohol to maximize their level of intoxication. 

 

On this St. Patrick’s Day, the G-Fucks were feeling especially adventurous (drunk), and wanted to try something new-- something that no one else had ever thought to try. The leader of the G-Fucks, Francis, claimed that they had done it all and suggested that they go bomb the cars of Aryans instead. “Ay fellers, whaddya say we git some bombs and show those blonde haired, blue eyed bitches what we’s made of?” The Fucks were fired up, fucked up, and ready to set things off. 

 

Just as they were getting ready to order their last drink, a black leprechaun with perfect orange ringlet curls appeared at their table. “This here drink is on me, me frands.” With the snap of a finger, six glasses of Guinness appeared in front of each Fuck and the leprechaun began dancing rapidly in the center of the table and shouted, “Potato, potata, here’s your shotta!” He dropped a shot of Bailey’s into each Guinness and instructed the men to chug their glasses before he disappeared into thin air. 

 

The gang did as they were told and were insta-hammered by the time they finished. Francis cried tears of joy and praised the drink loudly for the entire bar to hear. “Forget the cars, this is the bomb!” The G-Fucks vowed from that day forward that they would never bomb another car as long as this drink was available to them. 

 

They named it the Irish Car Bomb and sold the recipe to every bar in town, making them rich enough to import potatoes from all over the world. The Ginger Fucks traded McDonald’s potatoes for drinks, allowing them to be permanently intoxicated and eat all the fries they could handle. They lived happily ever after.

 

 
 
 
 
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