Tissues Come in Man-Size?

Wednesday the 7th 

(Jay) “Hey guys, did I spill water all over my desk?  (Us)  Jay, that’s not water.  (Jay) Ya, that’s totally water, whatever, I’ll clean it up after class…story censored for public viewing.

Language class?  For no credit?  An extra hour of lecture?  Ya, ok, no.  Instead of attending day 1 of the optional Irish language class, we took a nap class from 1-5…much better decision.  Come on, the people here speak English anyway, a few street signs in Gaelic, but still, I know how to speak English good.  Well, that covers most of Wednesday right…wrong.  Well actually yes, Wednesday is nothing to celebrate.  But, Aaron did fulfill his golden prophecy as we returned to Tesco, this time to spend another 150 Euros on groceries between three people.  Jay, can you please provide some ID to purchase that beer…maybe a passport; o my bad, it’s still drying…WTF? Ask Jay.  Back to Tesco, sorry for buying spices world, maybe I just like the taste.  And salsa in Ireland, don’t think so, the lady put chipotle mustard on my sandwich when I asked for hot sauce, shit’s weak.  I began to notice a few differences, first, salsa in enchilada sauce, second, not only do you drive on the other side of the road, you walk on the other side of the sidewalk, sometimes, and third, tissues come in regular and man-size.  The Will Power guy definitely uses man-size.

Shit, I almost forgot, Doug! Still won’t shut the hell up.  8 questions in one hour session, you’re killing me man…nobody cares what you title your essay.  And cougar lady, not the one who yells scrotum, but the other one, you need to be quiet as well.  Asking the professor to repeat every date in your notes for a thematic essay, shortly after the teacher mentions dates in history are semi bull-shit guesses anyway, is pretty useless…figure it out mama-cita. 

Sorry, but they get on our nerves…the 4^th member of the wolf pack, Gabe, asks only brilliant questions so he keeps the class in check, without him, our wolf pack may survive but the classroom may fall to pieces.

For dinner, pasta again, garlic bread again…all this meat, no spices, says Jay.  The end-trails of this night may or may not have consisted of me consuming and staying in while the rest of the wolf-pack howled at the moon.  Bitch move Steve, you owe everyone drinks now.