Deleting this bad boy in 5…4…3…2…

The Irish National Anthem began looping in my head, and the subtle taste of Guinness rose into my mouth, as I witnessed Niall Horan incite a bar brawl on British Primetime Television.

The Irish National Anthem began looping in my head, and the subtle taste of Guinness rose into my mouth, as I witnessed Niall Horan incite a bar brawl on British Primetime Television.

Faded off his ass, like the perfect, walking, drunken Irish stereotype that he is.  This child could drink me under the table.

Vegemite?  Not so much.  Hiding his disgust on live TV?  Also not so much. 

Australia - where all his publicist’s efforts go to die. 

It’s your birthday, Niall  - if you wanna celebrate by discarding all logic and eating cake off a floor, then get that cake (at 1:08).  It’s also cool if you lick said cake off your forearm and stare blankly at the audience while they frantically scream your name (at 2:26).  

No performance will ever be better than this performance; special mention goes to Harry’s level of intoxication which apparently is inhibiting his abilities to stay on two feet.