Irish outnumber Italians in this country two to one. That means there are twice as many Irish tenors as Italian tenors. It means an imbalance, something akin to the glaciers melting.
Step dancers are multiplying by the minute, clogging entire neighborhoods. Bagpipers and penny whistlers follow them everywhere, creating musical engorgement. Kilts belong to the Scottish, who you can't understand, but Irish pipers wear them unabashedly.
Meanwhile, Italian barbers are disappearing faster than koala bears.
Thankfully, Italians still have more accordion players than anyone except the Rumanians and gypsies.
Can you imagine Italians trying to step dance with their arms pinned to their sides? Italians cannot do anything without gesticulating. When giving birth, their women's hands are machine gunning movements.
Which brings me to those heavy knit off white sweaters the Irish wear to their parades. I know they have a name, which I keep forgetting. Maybe if I search 'heavy knit sweaters worn by Irish' I'll get an answer.
I'm rambling, but not as much as Irish storytellers. By the way, Italian marble is the best in the world. Damn, here comes another step dancer, hopping maniacally right in my path. She smells of Irish Spring.
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