Posted:Thu Jul 2, 2009 11:33 PM CST
No Dawn, no day, I'm always in this Twilight....in
Well what a crazy weird day.
My sisters father in laws birthday! Started off roughly around 2pm. First pint of Heineken consumed by 2.03pm. We then went on to order food. I’m not fussy. I’d lick the beard of Moses if it tasted like Pringle coating but what I ordered was less appetising.
On the menu, Chicken Baguette with carmelized onions and cheddar cheese……It sounded pretty darn tasty. But it tasted, pretty darn yucky. It wasn’t even chicken breast, it was like they got a cheese grater to a live chicken and just flaked off the purpley-est (so a word) part of the meat.
Then they just stacked pan fried red onion (not carmelized) on top.
But I still ate it. I’m Irish, generally we take what we get and don’t complain about it’s horridness or the fact that it’s overpriced.
So I ate my veiny chicken with stringy cheese on a microwaved baguette.
Eyebrow dandruff would have been the perfect accompaniment, but alas I think they saved that for our coffees! Still, not wanting to be awkward customers, we ordered another two rounds til we were tipsy enough to forget the horror of the food we had reluctantly shoved down our throats.
After our radio-active slop we moved onto another bar.
Twas here that I observed some men playing darts and catching up on some gossip magazines! “ZOMG what IS Britney wearing?” In between bouts of manly belches and jostling about who was the worst darts player.
Me being well tipsy at this stage, Hessy the Incredible Heineken-Hulk skipped her way to the outdoor smoking area. A man that could only be described as vomit that had sprouted legs starts to leer at my breast-icles. As always, I was singing a song in my head “tonight, I’m gonna have myself a real good time, defying the laws of graaaaaaavity……” when this barf goblin manages a hello, apparently attempting to start a conversation with my breasts. My bewbs, lacking a voice then informed me of the alien attempting to make contact.
I uttered a cheerful hello, then continued my in store rendition of Queens greatest hits. Then the creature continues in his quest to interact with a human……. “I know you from somewhere, are you Peter Coughlans sister that used to be morbidly obese?”
I said no, that I was never morbidly obese and that I knew Peter, last I heard of his sister she was accused of stealing stock from the cattle feed factory she worked in.
I returned to my comrades, who advised me that Phil (part of the duo Phil n Lil) was partially popping out of my top. Adjusting myself I made my way to the bar.
Thus came my second compliment of the night from a super old man, ,like seriously definitely at least 85. Unfortunately this is not the first time I’ve heard these words “You smell of onions.” A gal can’t catch a break, if it isn’t aesthetically challenged aliens, it’s ancient old men head butting you in the ego.
I order “Pint of Heineken, Pint of Murphys and a mineral water (for my sister, who the fuck drinks water in a bar) with a lemon wedge,”
I was then presented with the mineral water, Murphys Stout , Heineken and a Pernod. Or leg opener as we say here. I ask the lady where the Pernod came from. Apparently Vomit Vernon fancied his chances of starting a conversation with my vagina. Obviously my breasts were not good enough orators for his taste.
I politely but not seriously decline the Pernod. After all, booze is booze and ya can’t refuse.
I unlatch my jaw and slug down the Pernod neat. Vomit Vernon winks at me, I say a thanks back hoping that Rohypnol wasn’t causing the burn in my chest.
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