theres a place jhust north(i think) of england, its full of leprechauns, irate northen folk, four leaf clovers, pots of gold and a whole lot of Irishes, its called dublin, and ive penned it as Dubbers. so i dropped onto the land of guiness via Ryanscare (ryan air), and boy was i scared.although kalula airways was cheap, this place takes cheap to further levels.so as we took off and managed to get some sorta altittude the Boeing found itself caught in a dash of turbulence.im not the biggest fan of rollr coaster rides, however i have been on a couple, and for sure they end after 45 seconds.this little air flight i feared cos it was bound for 1,5hrs.thanking goodness the jet plane flew alright.
dublin wasnt what i expected, i didnt see Bono in the streets, i didnt see Irishes getting hammered on Guininess, i didnt see a lot of creamy white folk with red cheeks, i didnt see the Commitments in their red cadillac, i didnt see teeny pebbled, maized streets glistening wet in the evening moonlight, i didnt ssee people in worn jeans and old worn in leather boots i didnt see people screaming 'vir foks seyks ,Jimmy (i did however request that a foxy lady say those words to me.) but what i saw was a globalised,commercialsed city, what i saw was a fu**ing macdonalds and burger king, and every other globalised store one cares to imagine.im seriously pissed off with globalisation like im pisssed off with flowery apples. call me that 60's lad but i still play golf with wooden clubs and i dont talk when someone else is putting. i feel i should been born when Ouma made the rusks, when jack daniels wasnt made by 20 something snotty coke drinking macdonlads munching, intel-pentium-suit wearing engineers.
one of the nghts we went out and i just hammered the vodka like a drunken russian on an ice pack fishing for whales to calm my nerves after my disillusionment, and a good night i did have. that night we entered this club and so like me in a cheerio sorta way, i said to the bouncer, 'ey dude, howsit going bru?, and so he reponds in a massive irish guiness swirling lepracuan wrestling accent, 'great thenks fer asking'.
theyve really got the craziest names in them parts like Carmac, and Aine and Oefen and Jimmy.dubbers also has a great history of writers-orson welles, bram stoker and james joyce and then music the U2, Thin lizzy and those uber hot chicks from the Corrs.i visited with Pia this road,grafton road and at its centre in the middle of the road, on an island sits this massive needle, a shimmering stainless steel needle, a needle that pierces the sky,'becareful folks not to puncture your lung', is what was going through my mind at the time
i did a bus sighting tour with this dude joe,a souif african living in dubbers.i dunno, bus tours they border on being seriously gay.cos you cant really here the dude in your earphones and by the time youve looked left,the guide has already told you to look right.so we hopped off at the Guiness tour.honestly i couldnt have given to sh*ts as to how guiness is made.the dude joe was loving the idea of going to the guiness 'disney world',he even chooned the sugar at the entrance that coming to guiness was something he always wanted to do, it was like his pilgrimage. so we forked out a portion of our testicles just to go in and wander the museum, it all ended, thank the lord on the top floor of the building whereby each person was served a pint of guiness which is like a heap of marmite topped with shaving cream.certainly not for those folk that watch and do jane fonda exercise videos.
so the other night i headed off to south bank for a splash of culture and to the national thetare we did go, it wa the Aristocrats that was written on the tickets, a question to an afrikaaner as to where the john was and a request from a russian for a frikkin beer and into the theatre we were seated. you think braveheart was tortured, try sitting through this one. anyhoo i saw Ian 'Gandolph' mckellan in hs pimpin blue rods and cheesy tussers white loafers.i was gonna say 'wasap with Frodos hairy feet', but then i thought better. anyhoo good night was had by all.it was topped by a wee trip to the OXO tower for a brief view of the thames at night.glorious view i might add.
the next weekend i went to my cousins wedding and on the invitation it said formal blck tie.so i was like, whatever, black tie doesnt really mean black tie. and so in a white stripey colloured pringle shirt and sorta green khaki rods i headed into the venue.and folks when an invitation says black tie in england you take heed and wear a black tie.i was the only dude in anything other than black, i repeat the only dude in anything other than a black tie.anyhoo i had a good time, munched like a savage, danced like a mexican on fire and got home late.
anyhoo folks keep it real, keep it sustainable and dont swim after youve had a big meal. from the scratchings of a hairy mandan chappy chaitowitz
ps i saw in soho brittany murphy being filmed for a movie.i wa there man, i was ther.
1 comment:
Dan, you actually quite the funny one. Who figured? even without the help of a bottle:) Thanks for walking us home the other night!!! Would choose you over any other shmo anytime :) Laterzzzz
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