The St. Patrick’s Day results are in!  We sent our 200 interns from the Leonard Cohen ticket Procurement Project out into the streets on St. Patrick’s Day.  Each had a thick wad to twenties (thanks to Jai-Alai 3Card Monty’s hand out from Bailout Bill and the Derivative Kid) and instructions to drink their heads off in honor of a Welshman who brought a Middle-Eastern Religion to Ireland and all the subsequent fun that caused.


Since midnight a second cadre of 200 hastily-recruited interns has been tabulating the results and there they are:



Went home with another of the interns.


Went home alone and decided to fry eggs, fell asleep, burnt the eggs and set off the smoke alarm.


Went home with a random stranger encountered in a public house.


Fell asleep on various modes of public transport and awoke in hitherto unvisited pasts of the metropolis.


Went home with two random strangers encountered in a public house.


Got hired by drunken green-spandex-bikini-wearing executives of America‘s Insolvent Giant and given enormous on-the-spot hiring bonuses.


Put the money into savings bonds and spent the day at home tidying up


Spent the night being ranted at by The Apostate Reader complaining about how hard it is to get excommunicated these days.