Night of the Irish barmen

WoOoOAh.....


Ok here I am.

Random rambling intro
I am currently wearing a fairly large pair of metrosexual sunglasses. The ones which all the girls love to wear but which also happen to have the side-effect of making their faces look like some mutant beetle (I'm not talking about a genetically modified John Lennon here). You all know what I'm talking about. Lets get this right out of the way. I'm well aware that you've all probably been aching to know if they're my glasses or not. But wonder no longer my good people. I have aquired these glasses through great treachery and deceit. (Ok so I took them when Karen left them in the office during her smoking break but thats not nearly as exciting). One must commend Karen on her magnificent taste in sunglasses.  Perhaps they'll protect my eyes from the powerful glare of the computer screen. Or maybe they'll just give me a headache after a while. Only time will tell.......



Night of the Bartenders
Here begins an epic journey. On wednesday night me and Bert were going to see the movie Kick Ass. You know, a real man-date. We probably would have ended up drinking beer and beating our chests, shouting out manly things just to vent our great overflowing masculinity. That is, we would have, if we had ever gotten that far...  We had some time before the movie started so guess where we ended up. THE PUB! (one has to say that with widened eyes and far too much intensity for a sane being).
Long story short, we missed the movie.

As I've mentioned before, we tend to frequent one pub in particular - The Irish Times, so we're relatively familiar with most of the barmen there. In fact last week he walked up to us and told us what our order was. Kudos to him, it was right. Although it definately made us think a little... I mean half the mind says "god we come here too much" while the other half says "awesome, they know us well, next step = drinks on the house." Without coming to any particular conclusion about that I'm going to resume my story.

One of the guys who usually serves us was in plain clothes having a drink with some friends (some more Irish louts presumably). Anyway, we got talking to him and eventually we ended up joining them. My presumption was spot on, they were a bunch of Irish louts. But great louts. The kinda louts I could hang out with and do lout-like things with (Manly things of course, wrestling bears and whatnot). Anyway, we were having a great time, they'd already had a few drinks so were very entertaining, as only Irishmen can be. As such, they were pretty generous with the drinks. Which was great. Obviously. Seriously though, completely made my night. I mean, the bartender were drunk and buying us drinks. Thats pretty cool right? I mean its definately a step up on the great Chain of being... A.K.A  the Great Pub Hierarchy.

Apart from everything mentioned above, my main conclusion about the night is that I still need to go see Kick Ass...

Women (the creatures, not the song)
Something bizarre that I've noticed here in this giant pub of a country, is how much people use their bicycles. I mean, to get everywhere. Everyone does it too, rich, poor, whatever. So you get people in suits riding bikes down the street. My favourite though, is seeing business women, (could easily be a highly acclaimed lawyer judging by the clothing). I don't mean 'business' women, I mean wealthy professionals. Firstly; it is a little strange to see a very well dressed women cycling down the road in a tight black formal skirt. Strange, but I can get over it. What I can't get over entirely, what baffles my poor ignorant mind, is seeing them cycle in these massive high heeled shoes. I mean really. Apart from looking ridiculous, it must present some kinda safety hazard. What if the heel gets caught in the pedal and said women ends up breaking her face. I mean her expensive make-up would be ruined for starters. The facial lacerations wouldn't be that great either.


More on my captivating thoughts later... In a few days... lovelovelovelovelove