The Italian Cafe across the street is definitely not my cup of espresso (fucking Italians don't even know the proper vernacular is tea, cup of tea...).
As an Irishman I am predisposed to having a melanin impediment... obviously; that being said why is it then necessary to bring this to my attention?
Is it not obvious that I am relatively aware of my own skin tone and the need to take "precautions" in staving off the burn of the accursed sun? I apologize for being a "ginger" (which by the way is offensive and a wholly unoriginal sentiment, keep watching South Park and learning... assholes) and representing my Irish heritage.
I would also like to apologize for the following sins against the Italians (Mother Mary forgive me for I have... blah, blah, blah... fart): Being in shape, I am very sorry that I am capable of walking all the way across the street in the hot sunshine to spend my wife's hard earned money at your cafe. I know that you had to drive your 1999 Cadillac Boat from your house 100 feet behind the cafe to get here, because you are fucking fat... my bad.
Being attractive, really sorry about this you stupid Dago, It's not my fault that your aquiline nose looks like a Kindergartner molded it from Play-Doh and threw it in your general direction where it accidentally landed on that moon crater you call a face. Thousands of years of "Roman" heritage and this is as far as you people have come? All the make up and hair product on the planet cannot fix what God has done to you (I think he is still mad about that thing you did to his kid... remember, Jesus, you had him whacked-off... not cool).
The fact is I could ask for forgiveness for just about anything, but I would rather let you guys get back to filling your faces with pastas (How do you not realize they all taste the same, they are just different shapes. Do the circles taste like circles and not strings, I don't fucking get it?), shouting at each other while gesticulating wildly about every mundane thing and killing the ozone layer with your hair spray and airbrush eyebrows.
Listen, you are not all in the mafia, there are more names than Vinnie, Joey and Tommy and being Irish kicks ass.
Sure we have Catholicism in common and we enjoy a good argument, but other than that I am far superior to you in every way.
What any of this has to do with my experience in the Italian Cafe this morning, I dunno? I just really wanted to bitch about being singled out for my skin's inability to turn sunlight into bronze (fucking alchemy, I will never be a wizard), but if I'm not mistaken when your skin turns leathery and has lost elasticity shouldn't it be turned into a boot... you know, like your shitty country?
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