Uh...Here come the Men in Skirts
it's the M.I.S., uhh, here come the M.I.S.
Here come the Men in Skirts
They won't let you peek under
Nah nah nah

The good guys dress in SKIRTS remember that
Just in case we're ever face to face and make contact
The title held by them -- M.I.S.
Means what you think you saw, you did not see
So don't blink 'cause you'll miss what was underneath
is now gone, plaid and stripes with green shamrock's on
Walk in style, move in silence
Guard against skirt-flippin' violence
But yo they ain't on no fangirl list
Their in total bliss, no knickers and no frills
Saw something strange, watch that skirt smack
Cause you'll never quite know where the M.I.S. is at
Uh and...

Here come the Men in Skirts (Men in skiiiiiiiiiiiiirts)
Plaid~skirt defenders (oahhaooohh ohhhhh)
Here come the Men in Skirts (Men in skiiiiiiiiiiiiirts)
They won't let you peek under

~Song: Men in Black, sung by Will Smith

Ah, what a befitting song for men who dress in kilts or skirts as I like to say.

Yes, dear lads and lassies, it's that time of year where men like to dress in skirts, wear shamrock's, eat Shepard's pie and drink lots of Guinness. It's like my grand-pappy always use to say, "Who's your Paddy?" Actually, he never said anything like that to me. But he always did encourage me to pursue my family heritage; that of Scottish, Italian and Irish origins. Mixed up with a little bit of English and German and what do you get? Mina, an American mutt. I had to scrape-from-the-bottom-of-the-barrel-for-cash-so-I-could-PARTY-with-Hansgirl down in Texas for St. Paddy's day weekend. All before CIV? You betcha.

I want you to know that both she and I had to do some fast Irish dancing to pull off a miracle to make this trip happen. First, I had to brain wash my boss into letting me go. Not an easy task to do when working for a Sith Boss. But, I used my Jedi mind tricks and got the allotted time needed for the trip. Second, I had to track down and hire a Bounty Hunter for pets (pet sitter for Darth Furball). Thank the Force there was ONE slot still available for that weekend. Third, we had less than three days to book my flight. No deals, no guarantees, high flight prices and limited scheduling added to our challenge. With some GREAT team work and a whole lot of luck we pulled off a weekend get-away for me. So, strap yourselves in, because you're in for one heck of a skirt-twirling ride.

~Final destination? Houston, baby. I did make it in one piece to Houston, except for a minor distraction with a lay over in Vegas. Ah, yessssssss, Vegas baby. Pretty lights and bling-bling all over the place. Not to mention that I was in Oboe-Wan's domicile State. I barely had enough time to go to the restroom, grab a quick bite to eat and load up with the rest of the herd on the plane. At last, a smooth touch down in Houston at 1:00 AM in the morning, there to meet and greet me at the airport was the cutest little Leprechaun I had ever seen.

~March 17th, YIPPEE, St. Patrick's Day. We wake up not so bright and early; only to quickly shower, eat and move our bootylicious butts to an Irish Cantina known as McGonigel's Mucky Duck (www.mcgonigels.com), where a little known Scottish bagpipe band that goes by the name of The Rogues of Scotland, brought down the Irish house with the Dark Side of Guinness. Alas, sweet lads and lassies, I too have now been converted over to the Dark Side of Guinness. I-have-to-bite-my-lip and actually admit that Guinness is pretty damn good. Of course, I had to mix in some Irish coffee in between that Guinness too. What a rush. Anyway, without further ado, I present my trip of "Men in Skirts" to you.

~Lassies, time to break out those mirrors ~ Stud in Skirt sighting dead ahead (handsome devil standing next to lady with big green hat).

~Ahhhh, eye candy ~ The Rogues. Don't jump too high guys; you just might break something in the process. They sure know how to get their bagpipe-jiggy on!

~Do you really think there is a tattoo there? By golly, there is. In keeping with that tradition, I also decided to strategically place an Irish tat on my cleavage (temporary) so as to support the Irish occasion. Sorry to disappoint you, but I can't show that picture here. After all, this is a PG site.

~Ops, I did it again. I dropped my spare change on the floor. Damn slippery fingers. Shall I bend down to pick it up?

~Here come the Men and Lassies in Skirts...

~And there they go...

~Let's not forget the pretty Irish dancers, with precision leg kicks.

~Aren't these the cutest little Irish dancers in training?

~Did you really think I would go all the way to Texas and NOT plan a Star Wars shopping spree of some sort at a little known store called 'Third Planet'? And maybe hit a few stores with the name 'Mart' in it? This trip may have been planned around the luck of the Irish, but it certainly wasn't going to stop me from having a GFFA shopping spree ~ "Shop until you Drop or run out of money, whichever comes first", as I like to say.

~Ahhhh, pretty battle packs and commemorative tin collections

~ I got Peez dispensers (icky candy) and tie cast mini ships (Obi-Wan's Jedi ship, Luke's X-Wing).

~HAN the MAN (skirt not included)

~How'd that kitty get in this picture? Kitty not included in Star Wars package.

~I think I'd like to see this Skywalker in a skirt. , without the Wampa, of course.

We had just enough time for a quick site seeing trip to a waterfall in the middle of town. Cool, isn't it? From there, we meandered on over to a pond where Hansgirl's daughters fed the ducks.

Well, lads and lassies, that be all. I hope you enjoyed my trip as much as I did. Thank you Hansgirl, for opening your heart and home to me one more time.

In keeping with the Irish spirit, I have one more thing to say...Kiss us, we're Irish.