Tuesday, July 20, 2010

I’ve got British Banana Hammocks and I’m Showin’ the World

 
Saturday, the 17th

Likely as a product of going to bed at 4am, I woke up at noon…made a big-ass breakfast burrito, and barely made the 3:10 to Yuma…err, the 1:30 to the busted up castle/fort/church place.  On the way there, some wounded soldiers needed to re-live their prior night’s consumables, but in reverse…bus stopped 3 times for vomit, 2 times for directions, and 1 time just for the poetic value of this story.  To make the situation even more beautiful, Robert was in attendance, spilling knowledge with every step he took.
            Damien, I am sorry, but the last 2 weeks have trained me to tune you out, so I have no idea what the historical background of these ruins are.  You did say it had the first Irish toilet, so who else but Zeke hopped up on the pot and made his best #2 pose…priceless.  Zeke, I gotta one-up you though…I’ve got British banana hammocks and I’m showin’ the world…so I proceeded to take a seat on the toilet as well, in true #2 fashion…boom Ireland, leavin’ my mark.
            Moments prior, I realized that Aaron was actually missing out on some pretty “sweet sh*t”.  So we documented the trip carefully, maybe or maybe not intentionally placing Zeke in every single photo we took, 30 if anyone was counting.  Zeke…stay beautiful.  After loading, driving to the Rock of Cashel, not vomiting, and then unloading the bus, Zeke informed me that my RED AND BLACK shirt was just a few gay-la-watts from pink…Zeke, that’s twice.  I teared up but was able to hold it back.
            Once the tour began, we learned that the Rock of Cashel is absolutely not a castle…seems like it would be…but not…it’s a Cathedral, duh.  Gabe wanted a ghost story; tour-guide-man had none.  Whatever.  The church itself was actually really cool…all jokes aside, seeing a service in this place in the whatever-hundreds would have been amazing.  There was an IHS symbol carved in the wall, Jesuits represent.
            Outside, Zeke tried to scale the not-castle walls…despite you telling me to fu*k off and that I wear gay clothes, I still offered to help you climb the wall…you remember that forever Zeke.  Anyway, we then walked to dinner, and I sat with Jay, Doug, and Amelia.  Doug, I give you a hard time, you do ask terrible questions, but you’re a good man.
            Post dinner bus-ride nap was nice.  Now that we’re all rested from the bus ride, let’s go out, right?  I forgot, you’re not Devere Scholars, drinking on back to back nights is taboo…whatever, Dan represented his city and rolled with Jay and I out on the town…have fun watching movies in a room of 40-people…not. (Ya, so you got more rest than us, and Josh, you have been Hangover de-virginized, but you’re only in Ireland with 40 American friends once folks, figure it out).
            On the town, Dan hit on cougars, Stephen (me) got the drunchies and ate the equivalent of a Circle-K hamburger, and Jay had some 4 (not 5) star pizza.  The bar scene was good, not great, but we did find a dance club…Senor Cox, the labial dental will make an appearance, I have been practicing in front of the mirror for 6 years now, I made sure not to peak freshman year.
            But, the substitute wolf-pack member proved his worth once again…Dan, you’re the man.  This is unofficial, because I have no recollection of it, but apparently, I went to bed around 1:00am.  Mary allegedly rolled in around 1:30am and banged on our doors, hoping the party would live on.  Also allegedly, I woke up, walked into the main room wearing only white jockeys, and berated the group with a kind “shut the f*ck up, and stumbled back to bed.  This is all news to me…probably never happened.  Mary, you are seated upon a throne of lies…go to bed.

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