Talking Too Much Shit

Yesterday's post that wouldn't post.

Here are some fun stories.

Last night, the plan was to meet up with a girl, Frankie, who we met on the bus tour. We were going to meet at 9 PM at the Stag's Head, one of the oldest pubs in Dublin. We get all dressed up and roll out around 8:30 PM.

Then I realize our fatal flaw in the plan. Star was the one who was given directions. Needless to say, we were screwed from the get-go. We end up wandering around the very bright and busy Temple Bar district until 9:30 PM. For most of this time, she had me convinced that the pub we were looking for was called the Boars Head. Once we get the name sorted out, I ask a nice lady for directions. She really has no idea. We wander around some more and then give up.

So I look for the first pub with the word "Head" in the name. We end up in the Turk's Head. It is very crowded with our age type people. It must be the place to be. I get a Stella and she gets a Guinness. We chill for an hour drinking our solitary beers. She's kinda brining me down and not listening to what I say, so in every story I tell, I throw random stuff into the middle of it about being a hooker or losing vital organs. Then we start to play the game where we make up life stories for other people at the bar.

Then we leave the pub and meander around the area. I see Chinese food and feel really hungry. So I order some chicken-type stuff and we people watch from the window. We continue our game of making up life stories for people, but it has gotten exceedingly brutal. There are many 14 year old prostitutes. Anyway, the pedestrians also start to interact with us at our window. One teenage boy wiggled his tongue at me suggestively and I just blew him a kiss. At one point, I was worried that someone heard what I said about them because they came into the Chinese restaurant.

Later that night, I was pretty sick. Like, not from beer, but from being ill. I got up in the middle of the night to go to my locker and grab a water. It was a jungle in the Hostel. As I was walking down the hall, I see two British guys just chilling. One is talking on his cell and smoking in front of the no smoking sign. I ignore them because: 1. It is late 2. I'm sick 3. I may vomit 4. My internal danger meter says they pose no threat.


Then non-cell phone dude says: "D'you know where we can get a drink 'round 'ere?"

I pause then say: "Well, the Turk's head was alright. There were a lot of people our age in there."

Then the asshole cell phone dude says: "D'you know where we can get some pussy 'round 'ere?"

I immediately reevaluate the situation and still decide that they are mostly harmless. I give the asshole the look of death and reply sharply, "I don't know. There are probably some hookers downtown."

You know, I don't know if they use the word "hookers" here or "downtown" for that matter, but he probably would have to pay for it anyway.

In other news, I'm sick again. It came back with a vengeance last night. Thanks to all of you who've emailed me. It has really helped my mood. I'm pretty sure I responded to all of you.