Thighs Wide Shut Thighs Wide Shut

Monday, March 20

Ire Straits

Dublin, Ireland
March 17 - 19, 2006

Dublin doesn't have much to offer (glad I only went for 2 full days), hispecially in the St Patty's dept, but if you heart woman that're hard Corr, love to say 'cheers', or ever want to drink yer tits off, than this is the place to become Whobitzor Titsoff. Eh?


Where is my mind?

and my corn?

Maybe my corn is here

Lovely day every 5 seconds
for a Guinness

What a fitting episode to be playin on the telly

for beer is the cause of and the solution
to all of life's problems

Dublin, the mos sunny
& mos scenic city

and by ever,
I mean in Ireland!

Ma & Pa were real sports,
even staying up til 2am one night!

and listening to me puke at 5am the next!

Guess what color this horsey's poo was?


This is a thing called a thing,

at the ye olde Trinity College

Here's another thing
that used to house a military hospital

but now houses shitty modern art!

Visiting the G-ness Storehouse
is the only tourist attraction
worth attraction

Alec Guinness = Genuine Class

This is what Irish people look like

The girl had never heard of 'kiss me I'm Irish' before
so I introduced her to some of our Irish-American customs!

and here's some more Irish people

older, sure, but heavy drinkers none the less:
1 bottle champagne
1 bottle white wine
1 bottle red wine
1 bottle dessert wine
3 pints per person

I wanted to eat here on name alone

but I knew it would lead to Abradiarrhea

A pint and a fag

two things u don't often see together
since pints are homophobic



Mum's the word

on Hallmark's world domination

Heinz everything

but Hellman's ketchup?

The 7-Up guy lives on!!!

but what, no love for Geoffrey Holder?

'kills' in Gaelic means 'is cool'

and 'harms you and others around you' means
'gets you laid like mad, yo!'

and since Irish cuisine blows yo momma

we had to hit up Wagamama

I don't think my body can handle these qwik European ghettoways anymo. Last year's lil ingestion fest '05 bender caught up with me in the wurst way the night before I left, and this year, the morning of departure, which in turn led to probably the single wurstest travel day anyone could have experienced. Sure, downing pint after pint of the world's finest o' frothy all tweakend long was more blissful than watching Good Morning Miss Bliss, but I coulda done without the endless amounts of vile bile shooting outta my orifices, which oddly enuff looked like pints of Guinness.