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Published: September 16th 2008
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potty mouth
The one true Porcelain God Day 4, 5, 6 and a bunch of loosely organized events chronologically thrown together in no particularly unorganized fashion.
Today’s Irish tips: Unabrows are still cool here. They may be a symbol of how big your penis is. The bigger the unabrow, the bigger your junk is. But that’s just a theory I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fully investigate and conclude without having some sort of severe life style change. The word thing spoken in an Irish accent sounds like thang, which actually sounds more like tang, which makes me thirsty for tang, which they don’t have here. Confused? It’s ok; imagine living with a brain like this.
Last night we didn’t do much, except find the most expensive sushi restaurant in all of Europe…so far. They did have backless seats which is awesome for a 29 year old male with no the back of a 73 year old man. The highlight was the warm Asahi’s and our waitress who got fired an hour into our meal and no one came to help us until I cried mercy. Wait, that wasn’t the highlight, oh, the highlight was actually this rad conveyor belt that sent around sushi
clans
My clan is cooler than your clan and you just ate off of it. Our waitress wasn’t competent enough to fully understand the wonders of the conveyor belt so we ended up just ordering from the menu. Please remember that when in Europe, they like to hide extra charges on the bottoms of menus like they hide bullshit in small print on American car commercials at the bottom of the commercial add. The sushi was good, not great, the experience good, but not great.
We then headed to an American style nightclub. Of all the nights I’ve been out, we have met a lot of great Irish people, but our circle of new found mates consists of 99% single people who are all looking to get laid or spending their time trying to avoid would be suitors. This has left us with quick fleeting conversations in between the playing of the game. We have gelled with all of Rob’s friends well and I can’t thank Rob enough for showing us such a good time, so far we’ve had nothing but fun. The American style clubs are fun, but I much prefer the pubs. They don’t stay open past midnight though, so to get a prime club
spoon
That's not a spoon. This is a spoon! spot, you have to get there by 10pm or 11pm. It’s kind of a funny experience to be drinking Jameson and listening to Reggae at 2am in Dublin. The bathrooms have black lights for lights to prevent kids from shooting heroin. You can’t see your veins under the light of a black light. You can however, do rails of cocaine off your arm in the open viewing areas of bathrooms in front of people, with ease and confidence.
To all who know me know that I am a 1/4 Polish, 1/4 Irish and half Italian. We found my mother’s clan symbol and all the hoopla the other day. My full-blooded Irish girlfriend found her family’s symbols as well. The clan Fahy stood for, “always honest, always faithful.” I guess my mom’s apple fell a little too far from the tree. Tara was excited about hers though. We all also found Matt Regan’s symbol. It just said, “gutter peasant,” though. Hmmm.
Today we also got our rental car. Jason drove most of the way to Waterford. Roads here aren’t really roads, they’re more like video games and general concrete, leaving how drivers use them, up to the driver. For the most part drivers are pretty safe, good and unselfish, but you’ll find an asshole or two. The roads really are made for just enough room for two cars. I’ve brushed shrubbery twice, but I’ve yet to hit a wall, person, animal or car…and that’s a big YET! I did learn how to drive stick shift in less than a day. And it’s a left-handed stick shift. Tara spends most of her time yelling, stay to the right, which keeps me from smacking into everything on the left. She’s had two heart attacks and I’ve shaved at least 3 years off her life in two days. She sounds like Mama Pertellie from Goonies when she’s telling Mikey where the bathroom is, “STAY TO THE RIGHT, STAY TO THE RIGHT!”
We’ve been drinking a lot. It’s still raining.
There is a certain grand love of life after getting out of the car. First you’re glad to be alive. And secondly the air here is so clean, good and fresh that it runs through your body and adds onto the post traumatic driving stress causing an overwhelming feeling of born again euphoria. We went to some crystal factory today. Not my thing, but I was glad to show that I could behave when involved in something I didn’t want to do or care for. I thought buddy’s glass blowing was more impressive than this crap, but the girls loved it so good for them. I also found the most perfect bathroom in the world, which has now taken the place of my castle bathroom.
The most amazing thing I saw today; on the way home from the bars we saw a badger eating either a Chihuahua or a Leprechaun on the side of the road just outside of the city center. Apparently badgers are a normal occurrence that you just don’t see that often.
And finally, I really enjoyed seeing how many kids run amuck in the towns. It’s a plethora of kids, all ages, in packs, loitering or riding bikes or playing sports. It all seems so free and fun, like they don’t have to worry about kidnappings, drugs or being killed like all American parents and children have come accustomed to being afraid of back home. There is a genuine purity about adolescence here that I can’t properly describe; it’s something you’d have to witness being acted out. I also enjoyed the small towns and how you can drive by a castle, run down or still in use and on either side of it, will be a hair saloon, school, bakery or playground. Pretty sweet. We saw 9 kids hanging out smoking and being kids in front of a gas station entrance under a, “no loitering,” sign. We were to scared to take a picture.
Me and Tara have begun to worry about jobs, talk of Rome has already begun. Apparently I can get a job in an hour there as can she. We’ll see after a week in Galway what will become of us. We need a team name for her and I. Any suggestions? More on day 6 too come.
Excerpt from day 7
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Carol
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Oh Brian, I love reading all happenings in Ireland.. and I am glad you are still alive