drunk in training
I'm in Ireland. I have a room overlooking the River Lee in Cork. I've walked around the city quite a bit. It blows my mind how people that are SO nice in conversation can be such dicks when walking on the sidewalk. Seriously, they will plow you down and not even blink.
I went to a pub last night. It was crowded and turned out to be more of a disco on the weekends than a pub. It was strange. There were all these old people out shakin' it to Hollaback Girl. Lots of grandmas on the prowl for some action. I really hope their grandkids never encounter grandma on her way from the pub with makeup slathered all over her face, her dress hiked up to her vagina, desperately pawing at whoever decided to close his eyes and go for it for the night.
I think I'll stay away from those places on the weekend. Weekdays are nice though. Lots of old guy conversations (which are some of the best conversations ever). I've even gotten myself to start drinking Beamish (the brewery is within walking distance of my apartment). Maybe they'll teach me their secret handshake.
OH! And I managed to forget my camera cable, which means I can't put up any of the photos I've taken. Also, I have no wattage adapters. I brought my flatiron to an early demise. It was so sad. There were two sagging ceramic tiles dangling from threads of melting glue and plastic. It all managed to get in my hair and burn the fuck out of it. Flatiron's revenge.
Haven't seen even one cute boy since I landed. What the hell? Cork is weird.
It's kind of lonely here.
I went to a pub last night. It was crowded and turned out to be more of a disco on the weekends than a pub. It was strange. There were all these old people out shakin' it to Hollaback Girl. Lots of grandmas on the prowl for some action. I really hope their grandkids never encounter grandma on her way from the pub with makeup slathered all over her face, her dress hiked up to her vagina, desperately pawing at whoever decided to close his eyes and go for it for the night.
I think I'll stay away from those places on the weekend. Weekdays are nice though. Lots of old guy conversations (which are some of the best conversations ever). I've even gotten myself to start drinking Beamish (the brewery is within walking distance of my apartment). Maybe they'll teach me their secret handshake.
OH! And I managed to forget my camera cable, which means I can't put up any of the photos I've taken. Also, I have no wattage adapters. I brought my flatiron to an early demise. It was so sad. There were two sagging ceramic tiles dangling from threads of melting glue and plastic. It all managed to get in my hair and burn the fuck out of it. Flatiron's revenge.
Haven't seen even one cute boy since I landed. What the hell? Cork is weird.
It's kind of lonely here.