To all of those who made Ireland
a blast, thanks..whether you screamed in my hallway, yaked in my living room, or
enjoyed the blarney stone a little too much…Ireland was amazing…I hope you
enjoyed reading…to those who are awesome, read on…
Dan the Man – internet blumpkins won’t be the same
Jay – always cover your passport
Aaron -MEK
Mare-Bear – Drunchy theif…
Laura – scissors don’t work for bangs
Liz – when you see a rock, resist the urge
Kelsie – not an EY, an IE, I am forever in debt (minus a sandwich)
What
the heck…my last day in Ireland…this free trip went fast…Jimmy Devere, you are
the man, thanks a lot. But, in fashion,
we woke up at 10:30 and were on the streets by noon. As non Ireland natives, we were unaware that
August 2nd is a national bank holiday and everything is closed. This is rather upsetting as we were hoping to
see the sights of Dublin today…but everything is closed…damn. Whatever, we strolled through Trinity
College. Book of Kels, I’ll Google image
you, I’m over it. A park…summed up in
one word…mek (only Aaron understands this one, so read on). Next stop was my hood…St. Stephen (well I’m
not a saint yet, but it’s cool, I will be soon). My street was shi*ty, dead grass and peeling
paint. And my church is Anglican…no
cross on the top…lame-o. I made a few
calls, they should be fixing it soon.
Anyways,
off to my Green…this park was way cooler…but let’s be real, it was a park…pretty
plants, but not good for more than sitting or feeding a duck. The natural history museum looks cool, but o
wait, what’s up bank holiday…closed.
Grafton
street was pretty cool…a $14 McDonalds lunch was not entertaining though. The marionette guy was cool, but this was
clearly reject street performer central.
Dad and Mr. Abbott, we next went to St. Kevin’s cathedral. On the map, it shows a church…in real life,
it is four walls covered in ivy, definitely not a church for the last 200 years…sorry
dads. St. Kevin’s street was pretty
ghetto too, sorry bout that.
St.
Patrick had his sh*t on lock though, his street and church were nice…but it
cost 4.50 euro to get in…so Kevins…you got St. Patty beat there. The church was cool…a nice big church, very intricate
designs, lost of buried people and stuff…said a prayer and moved on.
4
Courts…closed…bank holiday…Dublin bikes…didn’t take credit card or cash…and
Phoenix park was 2 miles away. Whatever,
we walked, laid in the grass, looked at a deer, and bounced. We saw Gabe again, figured out that his bar
last night was even farther…sorry man, that was like 2 miles away.
But
tonight, we got in the restaurant that was too packed last night…so much meat
on the burger, says Aaron. We walked
back to the hostel to meet Dan the Man…ICE…boom. We then went out to Temple bar…and after 2
drinks and meeting the Swiss dudes, plus one last kebab, Ireland was to be put
to rest.
Ireland,
thanks for the good time…James P…thanks for a free trip…Fr. Cahalan and company…thanks
for the hook up…kid in the other bunk…thanks for snoring.
It’s
August already? What the funk? Well anyways, July, you were great, not quite
sure where you went, but its August now, shit.
We got up from bed at the usual 10am and rolled our bags downstairs…now
our load was much lighter as the real Bags shoved off early. But this time, we
took the city bus into town. We get to
the hostel around 11 and check our bags…question…you have a 4-story hostel with
a 1,000sq. ft. common area, but your luggage room is the size of the maids
closet…did it not occur to you that although we are at a hostel, we may have a
bag with us that needs storage…whatever.
Once checked in, we find a note at the front desk from Gabe…Doll Head
Lovin says Gabe, if you don’t know the story, don’t ask, as all of us who do
know the story wish we never heard it in the first place…not even Doug asked
questions about this one.
At
noon we drug our asses out for an Irish breakfast…if you will notice, breakfast
at noon…its not a crime to my knowledge, get over it. After a cornucopia of breakfast items, we
summoned our unwavering strength to make a long, arduous journey to the real
Mecca…sorry Muslims, you have been going to the wrong place for thousands of
years…we are off to the Guinness Factory.
After a good mile walk, we took a quick break at the main entrance, died
quickly, and went to heaven/the factory.
Eleven
euros, holy shit, that’s a cheap ticket to Mecca…I feel like the Muslims pay
way more to get to their place…see, this one is better. (If you shook your head
at that comment, remember that you chose to come to this blog and nobody is
preventing you from the little x in the top right corner…if you just shook your
head again, suck one, and go press the x, you are no longer welcome)
Now
that we only have our most faithful, dedicated readers with us, I can
continue. Between a history of Guinness
that Damien could even make exciting, and a tour through the 200 foot pint
glass shaped museum, I am really glad all of these old dudes really love beer. I mean, Guinness is fabulous, but I don’t
think I would ever start a beer company…so Arthur G., you are a man and a
scholar…a beer in your name! We
continued the tour by learning how to pour the perfect pint…push tap away from
you, 45 degree angle, fill to the harp…settle…final pour with tap towards
you…DO NOT SPILL…sit for 119.5 seconds…boom, perfect pint. With a certificate to prove it, we headed to
the Gravity Bar, got a cool look of the entire city (of Dublin obviously), then
booked it through the gift shot and out the door. Best pint ever (yes, I drank the pint I
poured, sorry, I thought that was obvious).
Can’t forget the 1-wide 3-high, it can be done.
The
rain was pouring down, the Gaelic football match was outside…we skipped on that
one. Back to the hostel…looking for Doll
Head Gabe. Found him, chatted, he was
low on rations, had a few euros, buy some bread and tuna right? Nope, beer…MY MAN. Gabe headed out to hear some traditional
music, Aaron finished his paper, Jay and I sat around and did frat things. We finally shoved off, and for the life of
us, could not find Gabe…sorry man, but where the fu*k is O’Shea’s. Some lady told us its an old man bar…we figured
we had the wrong bar, then we remembered we were looking for Gabe, a wise man
in the body of a 25 year old, of course he is here. In any case, sorry Gabe, couldn’t find you.
Anyway,
shitty burger place, one beer, and a cover band later, we were beat. Usually there is a good night-time story, but
if you recall, we are usually drunk for those…this time, sober…no story…sorry
folks.
What’s
up bed by 12:30…good thing I love people snoring.
I
will be honest here, today fu*king sucked...it wasn’t a bad day, doesn’t matter
that I only slept 2 hours…but today is the day we all leave. I was even woken up by screaming girls around
8:30am…and wasn’t mad in the slightest (apparently Ali was though, karma my
friend, karma). But anyways, today, sad,
but the show must go on. The train is at
noon thirty; it’s around 10, cab at 11:30.
Wake up Aaron….Aaron asks, “How did I go to sleep without my underwear
but still wearing pants?” Aaron, that’s
something you need to figure out on your own…sounds like a very personal issue…sounds
like some floories were involved (really, if you don’t get The Hangover
reference, you suck so much). Aaron,
with all sincerity, you were still drunk at 10am this morning…this is how I
know you are a champion.
With
a heartfelt goodbye to everyone, we crammed into a cab…literally. (Side note, everyone I met at UCC turned out
to be awesome…except a select few, you know who you are) Back to business,
Aaron sat in the front seat pinned between the seat and the dash with a giant
suitcase. The backseat had three
backpacks and three suitcases, with 3 more in the trunk. You ask yourself…why are there so many
bags…the wolf pack travels light…hold up, we forgot about Bags. Jay…bag + backpack (1 bag total). Stephen…bag + backpack (2 bags total). Aaron…2 bags + backpack (4 bags total). Bags (Ashley)…16 bags (20 bags total). This is why our tiny ass cab was so
crammed…but Bags hooked us up with a hotel room, clutch move, much appreciated.
Its
noon thirty and we board the train…Aaron has consumed absolutely nothing today;
Jay goes for the Triple Threat sandwich…so much meat he says. As you may notice, the wolf pack is
struggling a bit. With all his might, he
kept his composure…I won’t lie folks, I was hurtin’ too, but I didn’t wanna
mention it. Anyway, cab + train + bus +
walk + shuttle = hotel…all in the course of 5 hours. In a no Lucozade situation, this is quite the
feat.
We
rested up and headed out on the town in Dublin…nice place…what’s up rain…and
Gabe. We hop into La Pizza for
dinner…sucked La Dick, it was awful.
Whatever, we took pictures with the Kramer statue look-a-like, the
Stiffy thing (Ireland, your monument is really a giant metal toothpick…sorry
but that’s super lame…explains a lot).
Post dinner, we headed to the Temple Bar area. Pretty cool, but honestly, it’s no Cork. The bar scene was a bunch of tourists, not
super friendly, and the beer cost more…horsesh*t if you ask me…nobody asked me
though. After 2 drinks we called it a
night, searched for a frickin hour for the bus, went back and crashed…and my
shaver worked…see ya Bear Grylls beard.
In
Devere fashion, Aaron rolls out of bed and asks, “Why didn’t anyone wake me up
for the test today…haha.” Back-story,
Aaron was prepared to take test #2. Jay
and I were fully aware that this test would surely not interrupt morning, and
apparently Aaron became the 3rd member of the plan…ride together,
die together, bad boys for life as we like to say. More like we just didn’t care at this
point. The ironic part of it all is that
we were woken up by the noise of all the other students returning to the apartment
and rejoicing the completion of the course…o how innocent of them, I had this
celebration last Thursday.
Anyways,
we powdered up and headed off to the students luncheon with Heavy D (Damien),
Mary (Lit. teacher I never mentioned since I never attended her class), Robert
the Boss, Liam Mumbler, and the rest of the rat-pack. It was one of those receptions where nobody
officially tells you to start eating, but all the food is already out…and
everyone kind of waits for a queue, but none is given. But who am I kidding; Zeke-a-Leak enters and
locks eyes with the sandwich tray…and in the words of Cork’s favorite Queen
song, “Don’t stop me now.” Within six
seconds, Zeke had downed the first sandwich and was On To The Next One by Jay-Z
(Aaron, see what I did there). So
naturally, we all dug in, Zeke broke the ice.
After
scouring for all the red-meat sandwiches to absorb the final portion of alcohol
in my stomach, we probably consumed about 20 as a wolf-pack…Jay was still
feelin’ a little sleepy/groggy/drunk and headed back to bed. On behalf of the Devere Scholars, Aaron and I
personally thanked Damien and Mary for their time and providing such a robust
educational experience. Funny thing
here, Damien had a big smile on his face and took back all accusations from day
1…he clearly was unaware we all had ditched test #2 three hours earlier. To top it off, Mary applauded our addition to
the classroom…Mary, I never attended more than 1 of your lectures, and I know
you don’t have me confused for #2, that would just be rude. I’m not about to stop you though…especially
since you said you were giving good reports about us to Fr. Cahalan. Just smile and nod.
What
made my day though was a wolf-pack photo with Robert. As if standing with a statue of Ireland’s hero,
we proudly smiled and put an arm around our man…and hey Damien, Robert didn’t
get mad, reason #8 he is cooler than you.
Anyways, we left the Hogwarts palace and Aaron and I toured around
campus taking photos. While it was
tempting to walk across the forbidden lawn, we resisted…UCC, when I come back
in the fall, I am crossing it…watch your back.
And we also resisted floating down the Lee River behind campus; our
inner Huck Finn was itching for an adventure.
We
then walked back to the apartment…and Aaron disappeared for 3 hours…Kate, you
have to warn us when you steal a wolf for this long. Anyways, this gave me 3 hours of
no-shenanigan packing time, in which I packed my junk….as in my bags, perverts. Once pack, I began the feast for days. About 5lbs of pasta, 20 potatoes, 2 pounds of
red meat, 2 pounds of turkey, a pack of mushrooms, onion, and of course Jay,
spices. How about a potato casserole,
linguine noodles with meat and penne noodles with turkey…and some good sauce to
go with…I think we ended up feeding 15 people…Gabe asks, “Who has a
boner?” By the end of the night,
everyone raised their hand. So dinner
was good…Aaron liked it so much he may or may not have ended up tasting it
twice…fill in the blank…we drank A LOT. Let’s
make a drink list…for our own dignity, we will not list the amount of each, but
they are all greater than one. Shotgun
pint(s) of Carlsberg, shot(s) of Tesco Gin, shot(s) of Bushmills Whiskey,
shot(s) of apple schnapps, shot(s) of Captain Morgan, pint(s) of Murphy’s, Smirnoff
Ice(s), plus a full stomach of “so much” meat.
Travis, you bought me a shot at An Brog…I was drunk, but I
remember...you remember my toast, when I see you again, I owe you one. Dan says, “Let the icing begin.” 1 of 5 for Dan, to various members of the UCC
crew.
Since
An Brog was not doin live music, we wished Tony farewell, and headed off the
The Bailey. Dancing? Yes please. We boogie for a few hours, promptly are all
iced by Dan the Man…and Aaron disappears…Aaron, I won’t tell the story of you boke-ing
in the men’s room. We resisted leaving
The Bailey, as it was a sad departure, but we made a pit-stop at the BK Lounge
and made a final walk back to campus.
Folks, this was sad…apparently I did have a really good time because I
realized I truly didn’t want to be leaving.
It
was 3:30, Liz and Kelsie already bounced (after vowing that we would meet
again…hint…August 10 in Chicago), and another group was preparing for their 4am
cab departure. Bernice (says Ali) left 2
bottles of 6 buck chuck, and Josh was all over it like his first Christmas…its
ok, he had just woken up from blacking out and not even making it out on the
town tonight. In the goodie bag left by
Bernice and Co., I found an umbrella, tin foil, and a full sack of sugar. First, Josh gets a foil hat from Signs. Next, a yellow umbrella...cute Josh. To top it off, I felt Josh could use a nice
flower for his outfit…or should I say flour…see what I did there. Let the antiquing begin…folks, antiquing is
covering a sleeping individual in flour, making them perfectly encased in
white…this was with a twist though, Josh was awake…and totally ok with it. But I turned my back for 1 second, and the
tables turned. Diane and I became
antiquing victims immediately…and Josh even chased us around the premises,
spreading pounds of flour everywhere.
Security didn’t seem pleased for some reason, go figure…something about
being civil.
Whatever,
civil people would have internet and hot water too, so consider it even. To top it off, Josh enacted his best Def
Leppard impression by pouring some sugar on me (me being Diane). A shit-show indeed Josh, job well done. O what’s up sunrise, bed at 6am.
In
celebration of my 1 week retirement from class, I slept in until noon
today. I really shouldn’t spoil myself
so much but this was a note-worthy point in my life. Liam, fat sweaty dude, Joyce, Yates…I am
doing fine without you, but thanks for the concern. As usual, we moseyed over to the computer lab
to update our fan clubs on facebook…Aaron wants to get weird today…Jay and I
are down. Like the lat 2 Thursdays, we
intended to do some essays today…but were unable to focus because of 4 loud-ass
Irish douchers in the computer lab…and then they said, “Jabroni.” Aha ha ha ha
haaa…this guy is too much.
Wait,
the deadline for the essay is moved to Sunday…lets bounce. We go back to the apartment and cook a grand
feast once again…we have about 20 pounds of potatoes and two days to eat them
all…o boy. Potato casserole, boom…8 potatoes…fried
potatoes…5 more. Doug, yes, the potato
famine is over…that was a long time ago.
After
the potato feast, we donned our best Liam outfits, basically showing as much
chest as possible while keeping at least on button attached. Sorry Liam, we looked way better doing
it. While walking the streets, we passed
the London Brigade. We joined forced and
began our quest for the death star…rather any Thursday night hot-spot. We were warned that An Brog was infested with
a bad metal band…we passed and went onto the Catwalk, Dan’s cougar haven. Sorry boys, nobody here other than 2 crazy
Irishmen. Two tequila shots and were
out…off to Old Oak. Last week, no bueno
at Old Oak, this week, lots of bueno. I
am not a math major but I like to consider myself highly proficient in the
field of mathematics. I have a 20 Euro
note. I order a 4 Euro drink. I pay with said 20 Euro note, and receive
back a 10 Euro note, two 5 Euro notes, and a Euro coin. After some calculations, I believe I have
gained 1 Euro…any errors? Seems like
Gollum wasn’t the only one giving me free shots this trips.
We
met 2 drunken Swiss dudes, English was not their thing, Swiss is not
ours…communication breakdown. Spilling
Irish cider hopefully is a compliment in the Swiss culture, or else dick move
on their part. Anyway, wouldn’t be a
night without some dancing...this time there are cameras on the dance floor,
recording a little more than just the dance…interesting angles camera man.
Call
me crazy, but tonight, I think we skipped the drunchies…we did not skip staying
up until late though…4:30, I am seeing a lot of you often.
I went to class yesterday, that
suffices for this week…sorry Yeats, you do not interest me…neither do you
Liam. Let’s be real here, I went to
Ireland to learn about Irish culture and such, how do you expect me to do this
when I am congested with class, reading, and studying. To me, this is ridiculous…I mean, this is a
good justification, right Damien? O, I forgot,
you’re no fun. Well, I woke up at
noonish, dropped by campus, only for the internet of course, and then headed
back to do laundry…I had 0 socks, and 1 pair of undies, even the Britain briefs
were dirty…musta been a crazy week.
Washer worked, but some jack-off opened the dryer door while I was not
in the room and my clothes did not dry at all…hang dry? Luckily it’s not humid and raining here 88%
of the time, so my clothes will dry quick…not.
Whatever,
were going to see a play tonight…at the Gougan Barra outdoor theater or
something like that. Honestly, I was not
too excited to sit in the barf-bus for 2 hours, but once we arrived, it was
worth the drive. The restaurant and
theater sat along a beautiful lake with towering mountains around it, centered
by a block chapel. Dinner was fancy…I
could tell because they put little fruit things on my plate for decoration…in
all honesty, why does a little red piece of fruit make my plate cost twice as
much, you tell me. Needless to say, it
was tasty…and most everyone shared…but not all…you know who you are.
One
thing I have learned here, with all the tea and coffee they serve, is you can’t
drink that sh*t fast…same goes for dark beer, but that’s a whole new
story. Mary Breen, you are a saint, but
you can’t be rushin’ me to finish hot tea…this upset me. It didn’t actually, but I bet Gabe was
angered…Zeke for that matter too.
Whatever, we walked into the outdoor theater that was inside…I mean, I
guess the theater was outside, making it an outdoor theater? Let me know if you figure it out, but I am
positive that it was indoors. Let me
preface this with the play title, The
Last Gaelic Chieftan, which is about a Gaelic general who had his entire
army destroyed but kept on truckin’.
Like the fort in Kinsale, he didn’t really win any battles though, and
he killed his horses to make a boat, and the boat fell off a waterfall with 85
men in it…sounds like a great chieftain.
And one more thing…it’s a one man show…about an entire army of
soldiers…felt like the performance in the Big
Lebowski. I slept through the first
half, may or may not have drooled on myself, and eagerly walked outside for
intermission…to be bitten by midgets. No
people, not little people, bugs called midgets, come on now.
Second
half of the play was cool…well at least less boring. Alone, the actor re-enacted a battle scene…and
to top it off wielded a sword in slow motion…apparently he cut a guy’s head
off, but I couldn’t tell, one man shows don’t handle death of a character
well. All in all, the play was ok; most
said bad, few said good. Sorry Aiden
O’Dooley, maybe next time. On the way
back, we entertained ourselves…minds out of the gutters folks. It was only midnight when we got back…of
course we’re goin’ out.
What’s
up An Brog again…hello Irish girls, I have a lot of trouble understanding
you. You seem nice, but I’ll stick with
the American accent. Dance floor is
open…when in Rome. The bar closed at
2am…so what else to do, back to the kebab joint…this time wearing pants to
avoid the short-haters. From here, we
walked to St. Fin Barres cathedral, pretty sweet at night. When I got back to the room, Amelia Bedilia
was over and had scoured our supply of drunchy pasta on the stove. Bedeeeelia, you’re breakin my heart…Pshhh
4:30, let’s make it 5:30…peace.
Ladies,
despite what your motives are, I did not wake up this morning and go to lecture
just to sit and drool all over Liam and his shag carpet chest. Aaron rode solo to class today, so I figured
I better not let him get bored in class…so of course, I showed up, and in
stride with the last 3 weeks…we titled our papers with “English Seminar 7” and
wrote absolutely nothing below it…see Liam, that’s how much important stuff you
say (see what I did there?).
We
got back around 1:30…O good morning Jay-bird, nice of you to get up! With all due respect, Jay was up doing
dishes. And it is 99% likely, that like
every other morning, we were doing the dishes of every other person in the
apartment…housemates, if you read this, don’t lie. After doing the mountain of dishes, we hopped
on the bus and headed to the train station…Diana, you are in charge this time,
we are not gonna miss any busses or trains, I will stay away from the time
table. Amelia and Liz accompanied as
well, gotta have the Iowa constituents…represent?
Ok,
so by definition of alcoholic, you may think we are perfect candidates…as our
next stop was the Jameson factory. Sorry
for partying, but this place seems legit.
There was an hour long tour that explained the entire whiskey making
process, and now I see why American Whiskey tastes like absolute garbage…yet I
still drink it, hmmm. Well apparently I
am not the only one who knows we have an affinity for consumption, as the tour
guide picked Jay and me to taste test American, Scotch, and Irish whiskey. This sounds pretty cool, Jay and I agree that
a picture of this would be nice…and so did the dumb*ss Spaniard lady who hopped
into every one of my frickin’ photos…and I have to live with these people for 4
months…o boy.
After
3 free shots and a free mixed drink, the Jameson people push you into the gift
shop…I see what you are doing here…I fell for it too…but, I spent under 6
Euros…so not too tricky of you, shoulda given me more…damnit, you got me
Jameson. We then headed back to the bus
station, and in a starved state, we scoured for a quick food stop. Remember last Saturday when I mentioned the
15 cent pizza, well this time, 4-star has a 2 for 1 pizza. Amelia, that means one of the pizzas is free,
like you don’t have to pay anything. But
Amelia doesn’t want 4-star pizza…maybe Amelia doesn’t have to come to the
factory next time (inside joke, kind of).
Anyway, back on the bus, off to Panda Mama, the Chinese restaurant we
have dreamed of for 2 weeks…o what’s up 18 dollar entrees, see ya later. We bounced…to another Chinese place, with
authentic Irish waitresses…this was worse than the Frenchy at the Irish fort,
but you know me, food is food.
Straight
from this new place, we went to An Brog.
It’s Tuesday night, you know what’s up…Bingo. It wouldn’t be a night if the UCC scholars
didn’t dominate the boards. In the same
order, Jay wins 30 euro, Stephen wins 15, and Dan the Man wins 15. Nothing new folks, we do this weekly. In total, the three of us have pocketed 120 Euros
in 2 nights, watch out Vegas. Pints are
cheap here too, can’t beat free money and cheap pints. Mick V, you do us right. An Brog busted into a dance floor again, and
I obliged. At 2am, I went with a
character from a little story by John Mellencamp to Abrakebabra…Irish kebab
place…is it cuz I’m drunk or is it cuz that this late night fast food place is
good that I think this kebab tastes alright.
My drunchy partner kindly wiped off the gallon of grease that unknowingly
dripped down my arm, while some crazy drunk lady chastised me for wearing
shorts. Back up lady, we will fight you,
or at least Diane will. Luckily, we
didn’t scrap this dragon, and walked back to the apartments around 3, yet it
was not until 4:30 that I went to sleep…frat, duh.
Until
1:14pm today, I have no idea what went on…maybe some Devere’s attended class,
but more likely not…all I know is that I had a date with my pillow until the
early afternoon…and it was fantastic. Of
course I am not going to let a good day go to waste, so forty five minutes later,
off to the Blarney stone. The wolf-pack
was accompanied with the lovely Kelsie and Liz.
Iowa represent...the wolf-pack had decided that these Iowans know how to
hang…ladies, we thoroughly enjoyed your company, even though, Kelsie, you
missed the stone. Regardless, you
climbed through the dungeon with us and put up with our ridiculous combination
of meaningless jokes and wiener references…ya, so wiener jokes are still funny,
get over it America. After climbing
through a dungeon that was no more than 2 feet high, we climbed up and up to
the stone, and gave it a kiss. A
bountiful cornucopia of lyrical synonyms was intertwined into my quotidian
vocabulary…o Blarney, how you make me wise.
Liz on the other hand had a romantic encounter with the stone…Liz, just
a peck, jeez.
After
the stone, we went to the lime kiln…thanks #2, lime kiln was not cool. A random house was pretty cool…for about 15
seconds. But the rock something or other
was a beautiful walk through the woods where we saw some witch stuff, magic
stairs, a sacrificial altar, some fairy gardens, and to top it off, a 3-MAN
TIRE SWING…heaven you have found me. The
wolf-pack saddled up and gave it a ride…haha dirty joke. Anyway, we ended up parting with Liz and
Kelsie after this and headed off to the Blarney Golf Resort…ooo la la.
In
all honesty, this was the most beautiful golf course I have ever played on…absolutely
stunning, dropped right between the rolling hills of Ireland. The pro-shop gave us 10 balls…really? 3 balls each for 18 holes…but we surprised
ourselves…they lasted us through the 16th hole, so we almost
finished the entire day on 10 balls…well technically 16…eww, wiener joke…see, it’s
funny. Throughout the round, everyone
had a few good shots…and everyone surely had some worm burners and
shankers. I had a few pars, Jay and I
had amazing chip-ins from the rough, and Aaron was the power-bottom slash the
master blaster, they call him Tiger Page…mere coincidence.
After
golf, we took a Texas Chainsaw massacre taxi ride through the backwoods. Sorry Diane.
Cooking tonight…hell no. Five
star pizza tonight…hell no. How about 4-star pizza? Ok, boom.
We ate dinner and crashed by one…hey, we fratted hard on the course…give
us some rest.
“I
had a weird dream that someone was kissing my neck,” says Aaron. Jay seems unsurprised. I slept on the couch…WTF. Not important though. Stop thinking about it, jeez. The night before we agreed to wake up and
rent bikes…this morning we agreed that last night we were drunk and making bad
plans…no bike ride. The lazy Galwayians
don’t open their bike shops on Sunday anyway.
Now we don’t feel guilty about avoiding exercise, situation
diverted. Skip bikes, lets just go back
to Cork…luckily we caught the express bus.
Diana, this time we decided to stay in Limerick for an hour…this time I
knew the times! Next time we travel
together, you call the shots though…I barely trusted myself as I glanced over
the time table fifty four times just to check.
What
is really cool to do in Limerick on a Sunday.
Well, the castle tour is 10 Euro, most stores are closed, restaurants
are locked up…lets do what any good American citizen would do with their spare
change…gamble it away! With 4 euros and
Aarons 2-peso coin, we bet the barn…lost it all. When in Rome.
We hopped on the next bus back to Cork…walked from the bus station to
Broke-field, cooked another dinner, and headed off the the Bailey for a
birthday celebration.
In
my notes, I have “vodka bottle from Kylie”, “hammered” and “boat race pints at
bar.” I’ll do my best to piece together
this brain buster but here it goes. Kylie
likely donated her half bottle of vodka and the wolf-pack took a few fratty
pulls out of the bottle and “crushed that sh*t”
Next, in a non-sober state, stumbled to the bar, at which we chugged
pints of Coors Light…Amurica…now I remember why we were so drunk that night…it
all makes sense now.
2
things I do remember…Josh spilled a wolf-pack beer, but Mr. White Russian knows
the man-code, and he replaced it. #2
creeped on all the UCC girls, we told him to chill it. A good story ensues but you may need to
contact me in private. The only quote I will
give is “I have 40 pounds on you, do you still wanna do this?”
After
this mystery event, we realized that our pain tolerances were pretty high, and
had a spiratic boxing match for the next two hours at the apartment. Each time I hit Aaron, Jay yells, “Don’t hit
my friend,” and punches me. Each time Jay hits me, Aaron yells, “Don’t hit my
friend,” and punches Jay. Each time Aaron
hit Jay, I yell, “Don’t hit my friend,” and punch Aaron. You get the point…a kidney shot and a few too
many punches later, we all pass out…so fratty.
Today
we woke up and called a tour bus company…yes mom and dad, we signed up for a
6-hour, narrated tour to the Cliffs of Moher…no alcohol or sailor ladies
included. While waiting for the bus to
arrive, we ate our first full Irish breakfast…”so much meat”, says Jay.
After
we eat, Paul sweeps us off our feet and away we go. Before you think I scored at the gay-bar,
Paul is our bus driver…get your minds out of the gutter. As each person got on the bus, Paul would ask
where you were from. To simplify things,
we all said LA (since we go to school there), and for the rest of the day, the
wolf-pack was referred to as Los Angeles.
Other groups were Germany, Israel, New Jersey (dude with terrible
jokes), Holland, etc. Anyways, Paul had
jokes. What better weather to have on a
day we are expecting to see 700 foot cliffs than rain and fog…perfect. But you have forgotten, we got Big Paul. To let the fog subside, Paul took us to a 100
foot set of cliffs, simply a warm
up. Paul had 2 rules…be back on the bus
on time, and no falling off the cliff…O Paul, what a comedian.
After
Paul explains that a true Irish-man pronounces 33 and 1/3 as “tarty tree and a
tard,” we stopped at a bar, then off to the cliffs. Good call Paul, have a few beers then take us
to an un-fenced, 700 foot cliff. Doug,
we have no answer why anyone would do this.
In the clearing of the fog, Paul gave us 1 hour at the cliffs, with a
strong threat that he would leave us if we did not make it back in time…hint. Well as we climb along the cliffs, we realize
that all of the good views and rock patios of sorts were blocked off by a fence…so
as Devere Scholars, we simply climbed through the fence and travelled along a
slippery cliff edge to a rather frightening drop off. Its ok Mrs. Abbott, Jay only had 1 Guinness
before we did this. Height-a-phobia or
not, this was scary. You could literally
walk to the edge of a 700 foot cliff, with a light fog, birds swirling, and
waves crashing below. Of course, we got
our hands and feet as close as possible without falling. 2 side notes…we definitely interrupted a
couple trying to have a quick, romantic session on the cliffs…sorry. Also, some
doucher who was taking our photo dropped my camera…a*shole. I digress no more, Paul is leaving in 5
minutes…better run along the slippery cliff edge back to the bus…I am typing
this blog now, we clearly made it safe.
Unfortunately,
some crazy lady did not make it back. No, she did not fall, she was just late,
and Paul does not f*ck around. But her
trusty friend got back on the bus without her…true friendship right there. As the crazy, non-friend/friend lady yelled
at Paul, which is obviously a bad idea, since Paul is a BA, Paul took us to
some secret spots, an old abbey, a castle, and some other cool rock formations. Although on roads no wider than a suburban,
Paul barreled down them in his giant bus.
In the words of the great Tobias Jones of Jones Big Ass Truck Rental - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N0gb9v4LI4o
– “this is a bus, do you know how big a bus is?” O yes, Paul knows how big a bus is, and he
drives it like a boss.
Sadly,
at 6pm, our Paulean adventures ended, and Paul kicked us off his bus, tour
over. After the tour, we walked into a
pizza joint that was poppin, and were greeted by a lady that said our 2nd
pizza would only be 15 cents. Stephen
(me) could never pass up that offer, we stayed.
After changing at the hotel, we returned to Fibbers, where, personally,
I feel that Jay and I crafted a beautiful conversation starter which Jay
delivered perfectly. A girl is standing
with a small umbrella in her hair. Wavy
locks Jay approaches and says (note, we are in Ireland, it rains an ass-load
here) “Hey, if it is raining later, can we share that umbrella?” Crafty right?
Apparently not…the girl laughed but her friend accused Americans of
having bad humor and quickly CB’d jay.
Whatever lady, the dude abides, and we were drinking white Russians…sometimes
you bite the bar, and sometimes the bar bites you.
We
then returned to the Kings Head…no sailors here…damn. But an amazing live band played…even with successful
covers of Lady Gaga, Beyonce, and Kings of Leon. We then snuck into a night club…folks, here
is a warning…never listen to the Japanese Popstars, they suck tons…we bounced.
Jay
passes out as he hits the bed, snoring immediately. We wake up Jay, ask him to stop snoring…and
in a thick foreign accent we hear “Sorry boys.”
Luckily the snoring stopped.
Class? Did I even think about going to you? Definitely not…I have my priorities set
straight, curing the hangover was far more important…giant ass breakfast
burrito is greater than sheeken and cheeeeseee from Fiona. From 1-4, Jay and Aaron finished their
papers…you probably inferred here that both Jay and Aaron chose drinking over
papering last night…Devere Scholars. To
celebrate we made a coffee/irish cream mix, heavy on the irish cream. After a little social lubrication, we hopped
in a cab with a former Hogwarts professor and rode towards the train
station…hey dumb*ss, we said bus station, youre taking us to the train station,
figure it out. Anyways, back to the bus
station…and we have now learned about Diana’s incredible gift of laughter slash
oxygen deprivation…I think we abused the privilege.
Despite not
being part of the UCC facebook Galway group, we were luckily allowed to travel
with Diana, Amelia Bedilia, and Josh.
Needless to say, I apparently am not the greatest time table reader for
trains…so folks, if we ever travel on a train together, double check the time
table, I’ll probably f*ck it up.
Anyways, we got on the next bus, no biggie…I think Diana was kinda mad
though, sorry. Next stop, Travelodge…except
we never really checked where the hotel was, luckily Galway is not too large
and we found it eventually.
We next met in
the park, Josh was drinking out of a 2-liter bottle of Sprite, mixed about 75%
with gin…that shit is gross Josh, seriously.
But we headed to Fibber McGees…2 mixed drinks for 5 euros, Josh is in heaven. Luckily, the dude abides…Josh orders 2 White
Russians…this man is hammered everyone…Josh you the man. And Kelsie, Liz, Diana, and Amelia, you
attract the creepiest dudes…onwards to CK Lounge. Let’s play a quick game…bar that needs to
give away free booze to get customers, has 10 people inside, nobody on the
dancefloor, and zero females…GAY BAR.
Whatever, Jay, Aaron and I break it down on the dance floor…someone not
named Aaron or Stephen slapped a dudes ass, and then we bounced.
Next comes a low
point in my life…the Kings Head. Sitting
at a table are six women over the age of 60, dressed as sailors…so I approach
and in my manliest voice say, “I see all you ladies up as sailors, I was
wondering if you’re looking for any sea-men tonight.” Luckily, the ladies laughed and I walked
away. Kelsie, task #1 accomplished.
Next task, get a
kiss from a cougar. Jay combs his hair
real qquick and rolls over to a group of brides-maids, and says, “I am from
America and I heard it is good luck to get a kiss from an Irish woman.” Boom, it worked like a charm. Kelsie, task #2 accomplished, you now owe us
sandwiches.
From here, the
night dies quick. Liz and Kelsie
leave. The drunchy monster kills out
buzz. Everyone decides to leave as the
next bar is literally a dance floor covered in broken glass (Josh, thanks for
snagging the pint glass). Ws stumbled
back to the Travelodge, talked with the check-in dude about Charles Barkeley
being a Brazilian cocaine dealer (this dude was definitely the crack head), and
Aaron and Jay sleep together, facing opposite directions…duh Mom.
P.S. Mom, sorry about the sea-men
joke, I could not resist, and was highly likely drunk…sorry for partying.
Today
marks my official retirement from class…it has been a great ride, I have
learned a lot, but lets be real, vini vidi vici, I got my 3 units…peace. No Robert, no thank you. Anyways, on my retirement day, I did attend
the lecture. This same fat lecturer who
sweated quicker than Ron Jeremy running a marathon…shit was gross. I see here in my notes that at the end of the
day I wrote “Sparknotes was better than your fat-ass.” Gabe agrees, you blow man…YouTube videos are
cool if the videos don’t suck and are not of a lady singing for 8 minutes. Maybe its not your fault Michelin Man, but
the way you teach James Joyce even made Zeke the Sneak pass out…as I have said
earlier, take a step back and evaluate your career, maybe the job at the hair
salon was a better choice…I digress no more
I
did write a paper today…Mom, I was in the library for a long time, and from
about 4-10, I cranked out an essay on the Gaelic Athletic Association. Damien, stutter dude, dramatic pause man,
Liam…take note, if you lecture on something interesting, like sports, people
might listen to you. Zeke, I know you
like water sports.
Zeke,
funny I should mention your name, as you possibly remember none of the
remainder of the night, just like you forgot everyones name as well. Folks, if you can’t tell by the clues…Zeke
had a little too much sauce tonight…kid was schmammered.
Stop
1, The Bailey. Live music was great as
always, the Otis Redding + My Girl mix is still good, even the 4th
time. Anyway, you stopped making music,
so we bounced. An Brog next. Pit stop at the pay phone, called the bank,
looks like they broke my ATM card…mistyped my pin, and can’t fix it on the
phone, thanks Wells. Whatever…sorry Dad,
bar takes card…maybe I will reach that credit limit.
At
this point, Zeke was sippin on double digit drinks…and while tall Zeke, you
aren’t the biggest dude, alcohol soaks in quick. While I was on the phone, you managed to
spill a man’s drink, barf in 2 pint glasses consecutively, put your finger in
Aaron’s face for ten minutes at a time, and after being escorted out, insisting
you should go back in. Lock it up Zeke,
youre out of control. And Kate, your man
is the man, not just cuz of The Will Power, but for serious. He walked Zeke home (props to you too
Amelia), and if it weren’t for the pony tail, Aaron did everything but hold
your hair-back Zeke. It still confuses
me why you didn’t use the trash can, but who am I to judge…you were
hilarious. Lacey has your photo if you
want it.
While
you barfed up your last 6 days of food, I sobered up on some bread…I don’t
think it did anything, but it subsided the drunchies. Aaron, you look like you got it covered,
Zeke-a-Leak sleeps sitting up. Good night
Zeke, good morning hangover.
I blame this on
you completely…if you actually were reading my blog, you would have realized
that I mentioned (last Friday…featured in Quick
and Dirty…That’s How We Do It…I stated “When we got back, we planned a trip
to Kinsale…but it was more like a Kin…nap.
We fell asleep, deciding to make the trek Sunday”) Clearly none of you
care enough to have noticed this, which leaves me disappointed in you all…but
whatever…im over it, I solved the mystery.
Kinsale
was really nice, and luckily it didn’t rain for absolutely every fuc*ing second
we were there. We first visited Desmond
Castle…apparently this place was pretty important in history slash was a
winery…I see where your priorities are at Ireland…its ok. Jay lost a game of rock paper scissors to a
mannequin and I kindly introducted myself to the original Mr. Hennessey…what a
guy, let me tell you. Sorry fellow
travelers, Jay and I are the only ones who want to take the silly walk…Doug,
the road was spelled Scilly…not Siciliy, which is not in Ireland thank
you. The 3 mile walk in the rain was
romantic, featuring a road side pit stop into the bay…a word from the wise…if
you make it look like your making a phone call nobody would ever suspect youre
taking a leak…works like a charm.
3
miles later, we arrived at an Irish fort…from the history tour we received, it
seemed as if this place is where the Irish had their shit beat multiple times
by multiple people…sweet fort, not very heroic though. To top it off, the ticket checker mumbled in
his thick French accent…Irish
historical site, French greeter…figure it out boys, good thing Gabe wasn’t here
or else shit would hit the fan…unacceptable.
To
top off the man-venture, Jay and I decided to eat at the Robinson Caruso
inspired restaurant, Man Friday’s. O what’s up 30 Euro entrees, no thanks. It was Sunday anyway, we were two days late. Let me quickly backtrack and let you know
that we were on the same bus to Kinsale as 4 other UCC girls and
Fernando…Fernando travelled with them, but was subsequently left behind by the
girls…good work ladies, luckily Fernando is a good man, he forgives you.
Jay
and I took the bus back…and that night…absolutely no idea what went on…back to
black out.
