By Dennis Michaels

I'm not sure what it is, but ever since I laid my eyes on Boris Becker and his short shorts at Wimbledon, I have a thing for pasty redheaded types. God, I think they are so incredibly sexy with their milky skin and auburn locks. While most of my friends have lusted after Prince William and his dirty blond locks throughout the years, I've secretly been crushing on the gregarious red-trussed Prince Harry. At least when he wasn't being a bigoted, swastika wearing lout.

So now, with my favorite holiday, St. Patrick's Day, just a few days away and the prospect of shagging drunk hunks of Irish descent lit brightly on my radar screen, I'm all smiles from ear to ear. And coming so close to February's Black History Month - I also have a thing for African-American men - this means about a 6 week period of a perpetually throbbing groin. And back in the day when I first heard about the "black Irish" and gleefully, horny-ly, but mistakenly, thought it was a stereotyped code for well-hung redheads? OMG!

Given my penchant for redheads, and therefore a resultant yearning for Irish males, I figured it only made sense for me to learn a bit more about St. Patrick's Day. Here's what I found out with my comments Italicized in brackets.

St. Patrick's Day is observed on March 17 because it is believed that St. Patrick, the patron saint of Ireland, died on that day in the year 461 AD. It is a worldwide celebration of Irish culture and history, a national holiday in Ireland, and a provincial holiday in the Canadian provinces of Newfoundland and Labrador. [I actually prefer Irish-Canadians over Irish-Americans because I'm more likely to find foreskin at the end of those Canuck rainbows.And they're magically delicious.]

In Ireland on St. Patrick's Day, people traditionally wear a small bunch of shamrocks on their jackets or caps. Children wear orange, white and green badges, and females wear green ribbons in their hair. [We used to get a playful swat on the behind back in elementary school if we didn't wear green on St. Patrick's Day. That may be the source of my spanking fetish. Hmmmm.]

Many cities around the world have a St. Patrick's Day parade, with NYC's being the largest and Boston's being the oldest in the U.S. (since 1737). Some cities paint their yellow street lines green for the day while here the Chicago River is dyed green. [As long as my beer and my McDonald's Shamrock milkshakes are green, I'm happy.]

St. Patrick was born in 385 AD somewhere along the west coast of Britain, and at age 16 was captured and sold into slavery to a sheep farmer. He escaped at 22 and spent the next 12 years in a monastery. In his 30s he returned to Ireland as a Christian missionary, died at Saul in 461 AD and is buried at Downpatrick. [I had a crush a few years ago on a porn star named Patrick. He was from Montreal and I believe he was black Irish (think Colin Farrell). He slept with two of my best friends, but not me. I no longer have a crush on him. ]

34 million Americans have Irish ancestry, almost nine times the population of Ireland, which has 4.1 million people. Irish-Americans make up Chicago's largest ethnic group with a population of more than 201,000 [Even 20 years later I still think about my first boyfriend, Danny "thick as your wrist" Brennan, almost everyday.]

The harp is the symbol of Ireland. The color green is also commonly associated with Ireland, also known as "the Emerald Isle." [I was a loyal customer of National Car Rental for many years and really liked their Emerald Service.]

The name "lephrechaun" has several origins, perhaps meaning "a kind of aqueous sprite" or "shoemaker." [I once tricked with Notre Dame's lephrechaun mascot. Neither a sprite nor a shoemaker, he's now a lawyer and was actually thicker than your wrist.]