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Paddymon GO, Stone Stairs of Death Edition
We asked Savannah's favorite Facebook gadfly to contribute another special St. Patrick's Day parody

Editor's NoteWe asked Savannah's favorite Facebook gadfly, The Stone Stairs of Death, to contribute another special St. Patrick's Day work of his own particular brand of irreverent awesomeness. This year we feature his parody version of a certain popular mobile phone game. As anyone knows who has visited his Facebook page, SSOD has a unique vision of Savannah and a unique use of language to match. If you're offended by anything that's here, remember it's all in the spirit of parody, political satire, and our precious First Amendment rights that we all support. So with fair warning and no further ado, we present you, the Stone Stairs of Death: Paddymon GO edition! Now get off your ass and play!


Ahhh, yes. Good old, one-term Mayor “Sleepy” Eddie DeLoach. Don’t get me wrong — by all accounts, he certainly has the reputation of being a decent, moralistic, Christian guy and all. However, doesn’t he ALWAYS look as if he just ate an entire to-go cup full of quaaludes???

- photo by Illustration by Ema Sampey


(Sigh...long, looooooong...sigh...)

Now, it’s not exactly a big Savannah secret as to how I feel about this jackass, but for the purpose of this piece, I’m just not even going to bother going there.

I would, however, like to share with you a little known fact about him that you may not be aware of: His full name is Frank Anthony Thomas.

That’s right. His initials are F.A.T.

I don’t make this shit up, because

1. I don’t have to, and

2. I don’t lie to you, EVER.


Personally, I couldn’t possibly care less. The only thing that I buy from that place is beer, anyway. However, the general consensus is that it’s kind of a shit show design.

When you first walk in, there’s that awkward pastry-thing wall, or whatever it’s called. You’re forced to go left or right. To the left is that fountain drink/ slushie station, followed by that salad bar, and then that heartburning breakfast bar. To the right is the lame-ass wine selection. That area is also where you’ll find the new checkout area, enclosing the blatantly disgruntled cashiers.

My favorite thing about Parker’s is sitting on one of their outside benches, while drinking beer and LAUGHING MY ASS OFF at the late night pandemonium of people trying to figure out how to get in and out with their vehicles. Factor in the pedestrians from McDonough’s, the hotel construction next door, and it’s complete bedlam— trust me.

Speaking of hotel construction...


Easy to find, because they are EVERY-F#$%ING-WHERE! But that’s an entire topic of discussion in itself, which I’ll reserve for another day.

- photo by Illustration by Ema Sampey


Where do I even begin? St. Patrick’s Day in Savannah is among the sloppiest of shit shows in the entire world, but it is also a world class blast.

So, yes. I love St. Patrick’s Day in Savannah, but the general population is WAAAAY more stupid than usual on that day. Beware, not only of the said jackassed people, but also of the city’s ricockulous (pretty sure I invented that descriptor) wristband rule.

You have to purchase a wristband to drink alcohol inside the wristband zone, so make sure you know the parameters of the zone.

Me? I don’t wear wristbands, but I wouldn’t recommend following my lead, because I pretty much just do whatever the hell I want anyway.

- photo by Illustration by Ema Sampey


Whatever happened to this guy????

By far, the most divisive character I can recall in recent Savannah history. I mean, this town was literally 50/50 on this moose-knuckle’s Broughton Street buyout— still is.

Anyway, he bailed. I think Broughton looks like a big, sloppy shit show now, but that’s probably just me.


Yes. You heard it here first. My pals at The Original have legally obtained the rights, and by St. Paddy’s Day the bar will officially be re-named “The Original Pinkie Master’s.” New PBR sign outside and all.

Early Friday morning (St. Patrick’s morning), Jimmy Carter’s grandson, Jason, will be here (I say “here” because I’m actually here writing this right now) to personally place President Carter’s plaque back into the bar where it was for decades. Much of the old memorabilia is headed back here as well.

Pure awesomeness. I’ll be there Friday morning at 8. You should, too.