needlesarefun

I'm back from Ireland!!! ... awesome time but not a monemt too soon either. I'm thinking another 12 hours there might have actually killed me. Jesus Chirst do the Irish like a drink!!!

And so the saga goes...
The initial plan had been to fly out from Nottingham thursday morning, a few beers and a bit of sightseeing round Dublin for a day or two, and then a bus to Monasterevin Saturday for the wedding. Middle of last week I get the message that there are loads of good parties/nights out going on thursday and friday night, which sounded too tempting to turn down, so rather than sticking with the original plan, I saw Dublin for about 10 minutes then got on a bus for the sticks....

What I did fail to appreicate however, is that whilst there were lots and lots of organised, booze-related shenanigans going on, in a town roughly the size of a football field there's actually fuck all else to do.... This was by no means a problem for Thursday, and most of the 16 hour session that ensued on Friday around the ELEVEN pubs that this tiny Irish town has. By Saturday (day of the actual wedding) lunchtime, I was beginning to develop the idea that perhaps I didn't want a drink before mid day, as I'd got a small headache forming at that point. Sadly, I was a little bit tied to my host (a guy who perhaps slept 10 hours the whole weekend, drank strong cider for breakfast and shovelled dirty amphetamines in to himself at regular intervals at a fairly alarming rate.) and oddly enough, he was pretty up for a few beers before the big event.

By the time the wedding rolled round at 2:30, I'd had 5 pints and 2 large whiskeys and was beginning to wish I'd stayed at home. Thankfully I got a space near the back of the church and was able to stand up straight whilst they read the vows! We were back in the pub for 3:15 (no fucking about with photos afterwards, particualrly as the pubs were open) and at that point I kind of became resigned to the fact that I was going to be in a bad way by the end of the day whatever happened and that I'd better embrace this. My last (moderately) clear memory is of staggering from table to table at the wedding meal at a hotel in the evening just randomly stealing the bottles of red wine that had been put out with the meal. From then on all I really recall is drinking a LOT of red wine, being offered "a wee dab of speed", more red wine, whiskey, Irish dancing (!?!) and waking up in the residents bar at about 5am Sunday morning with carpet marks on my face. Not pretty! My host is STILL sat at the bar drinking at this point, but I convince him somehow that a few hours sleep is a good idea, particualrly as we were running low on speed....

I fall in to bed back at his place and sleep like I've never slept before..................................for four and a half hours!

He wakes me at 10:30 with a greasy breakfast roll, a bottle of bulmers cider and the offer of more speed. The reason? That's right - "we're meeting the boys in the pub for 12" (!!!!)
I think I may have shed a small tear quietly to myself at this point, breaking point was getting seriuosly close. The long and short of it was that by 1pm, we were back at the bar, looking and feeling like SHIT, and in the company of a dozen others who looked worse. By this point, I was pretty much done with this- the best man proudly announced that he'd vomitted so hard the previous night that he'd thrown up blood. I made some lame excuse and ordered a diet coke, to the great delight and mirth of my companions. A lot of piss taking ensued and I believe the words "Fuck you, you Mick bastards!!" may have escaped my lips in response, but typically, I eventually bowed to the peer pressure and the inevitable happened..... 10 hours later, I found myself in bed, the taste of cheap speed and tequila in my mouth and thankfully alone...

Monday morning I physically hurt, like I'd been kicked hard all over and it took a while to work out if this was from the sheer volume of booze and chemicals in my system of I had in fact actually had a good kicking the night before. I've decided since that it was probably the booze, but only because I don't remember the latter stages of the evening.... I was pretty glad at that stage that it was time to go home!
Airports are miserable places with a hangover- it's official!!

The End

A small note having re read that- I did have an awesome time, just to clarify, but I won't be repeating it again soon. I'm still feeling tender now! and the thought of a drink is still decidedly unappealing! Live and don't learn though- that's me!

So this weekend I'm going to visit my parents back in Worcestershire. This means nights out in Cheltenham! Where's good these days there? It's been a while...

Next week I'm going to be working at the Leeds Festival- from Tuesday through to the following monday after it. I surely cannot be the only one here who's going to be watching Hatebreed, Iron Maiden and the awesome Buck 65 (amongst others) ??? Who else is going?? I hear rumours of a Suicide Girls show that is yet to be confirmed?

Oh yeah, and I took some more tattoo pictures...ch che check 'em out!

Stars, Clovers, Diamonds Shrooms

All the love

Simon

also - go vote for Kombucha at Bizarre Beauties- you know it makes sense! http://bizarremag.com/bizarre_beauties.php