A Kiss To Be Remembered

    During the hustle bustle of Galway night life, a few friends and I decided to go for a drink at our local, Neacthain's pub. We all sat and drank our pints to merry content as we told the stories of our rather monotonous lives thinking they were hilarious to our fake laughter. Half way through this conversation my friend Damian offered me a cigarette in joining him for a smoke, I obliged.

    So off we went outside and smoked watching people rush us by eagerly to get to the pub boxes for drinks and what not and as we watched we noticed one of the city's socially dysfunctional people walking by across the road. Now don't get me wrong, I feel sorry for this guy because he's the more severe of the mentally ill people wandering the streets of Galway, but from one of my previous excursions outside Neachtain's I saw him hit a woman across the back of the head because she did not have a lighter to give.

"He actually kinda looks like House, but even more angry. And even more psychotic."

    So naturally I was afraid of his presence because he constantly shouts loudly and violently at passerbys in threatening tones. The trick with him is to avoid eye contact. Much to my dismay I had accidently made eye contact with him at this very moment in time. I quickly turned my head nearly giving myself whiplash and looked at Damian saying "Oh God he just saw me looking at him" to which Damian kindly replied "Yes Seán, he's coming over now". Afraid to turn around I just ignored the unfolding event hoping the man would veer as violently as he talks to people to the left or right. Neither happened.

    I turned around to be greeted to his face practically in mine. He held his hand out waggling his fingers like a piano player with arthritis. I was afraid so I shook his hand hoping he would leave. He shouted in my face with a positive comment, not a bad one, to which I didn't fully understand and then asked for a cigarette. I calmly replied while shaking nervously "I'm sorry bud, this is my last one" to which he brushed me off (with an exhale of relief on my behalf) and turned to Damian. "I'm sorry bud, I got this off a friend inside" said the Damian. And then the man got angry. So Damian, out of the well being of not getting smacked in the face offered the man the rest of his cigarette.

    A hilarious hen party broke out inside of my nerves as I thought this was the end of the situation. But no, much to my dismay the man leaned over and gave me a hug with his arm, resembling more of a headlock than anything, and kissed me on the neck whispering "Thank you". I presume he was trying to thank Damian whom quickly went inside straight after this. I WAS following suite until the man stopped me wriggling his fingers at me yet again. Scared and confused I went to shake his hand again, was this the beginning of a new relationship? No. He was not pleased I tried to shake his hand, instead he violently shuddered towards the cigarette still in my hand. Naturally I obliged and he took it now holding two cigarettes, one in each hand. I then made somewhat of a a dash to the door which was only a meter away at this point when he grabbed me yet again and nudged me in the ribs and screamed in my face,

"Don't die".

"My Reaction"

I didn't. But the look on his face almost led me to believe that I was about to. I made it back inside to warmth and safety a millisecond later. The lads laughed, I nearly cried and we all pretty much went home.

And that, my friends, is the most action I've had in a while. And it's a kiss I will remember for days, weeks, hell even YEARS to come.

Until next time, BYEILOVEYOU!

Gazing Upon People and Past

So after a mad summer of parties, weddings and going-away-wakes for my friends  Becky and Dee (who deserve a post on their own for some of the stories I have about those asylum fugitives), I've managed to get evicted from one apartment 3 times (the third being the charm) and winding up living in my friends' old apartment bang in the middle of Galway City, but here, I practically lived there anyways so it was only destiny that I land up here. The Summer past was eventful to say the least.

Now I sit on my perch stealing internet from a free hotspot café with my laptop (which is practically rubble, becoming merely a mess of wires,  a TFT monitor and keyboard) where it sits nestled in the corner of the room at the window because it's the only place I can pick up internet. This however is working out wonderfully as I have become the ultimate voyeur, peering out as people walk by unsuspectingly to my gaze. It may be creepy but it's a hella lot of entertainment, lets just hope no one looks up or my face may meet the window sill in an attempt to hide which would prove more noticeable as my face explodes against the window by the sheer force of my ducking powers for the now suspecting viewer. I guess you could say I couldn't be happier at the moment.

"I''m watching you"

But here here, I have decided that I've now finally built up a requiem of stories to tell that I will post over the next few weeks for anyone who cares to enjoy, I can assure you one or two may catch your interest, but for now I'll only go with what I can think of because it will take time to piece together some of the nights of madness that are both memorable and unmemorable at the same time.

My plans this year are to quit smoking again, make silly shorts to more serious shorts (that may inadvertently turn out to be silly), find an unsuspecting boyfriend who can buy me custard cream biscuits and make me tea at a whim's notice and possibly become a celebrity. These are all unlikely things, especially some one who will buy me biscuits and make me tea. And the celebrity part. And the short films part. And the smoking part. Hmm this is almost like my new years resolutions again.

Realistically I've just realised I don't know where I'm going with this post so I will start with the more disturbing story that actually got me evicted from my last apartment. I call it "Don't Shit on your own Doorstep", you'll understand soon enough.

Amongst the fair warnings of parties and so called anti social behaviour warnings from our landlords (to which I disagree, parties are incredibly social if they stopped and thought about it) there was one particular incident that seemingly went in favour of our eviction. The worst part was, it wasn't even our fault but it was obvious we would be blamed.

Upon returning to my apartment block with a few friends after clubbing, we entered the downstairs lobby area of my block to get the elevator to the third floor where my apartment was. However, before we could even make it to the lift we were hit with what can only be described as a gigantic fart (which wasn't far off the truth). What was this fart you say? Why, it was none other than literal shit all over the lobby floor. Let me elaborate.

Apparently while we were out boogying down like the groovey cats we are, some poor girl back in Kirwan's Court who may have had a little too much to drink managed to wander from a party in the block down to the front door of the lobby. But this simple task proved exceedingly difficult to our female friend and the overwhelming sense of her victory travel to the door made her puke all over herself and pass out. But that wasn't all. I'm assuming that when she came to again that she got so excited about the prospects beyond the door that she couldn't contain herself any longer.

And SHIT eeeeeeeeverywhere.

"I just shit on your doorstep!"

And when I say everywhere I mean it, my theory is she tried to walk again which was unfortunately brought her into this mess in the first place, while proceeding to unload into our lobby area. In the end the paramedics had to pick up our poohey friend and leave. But they did us a small favour, they left news papers on the biggest poohs so we didn't have to see all of them, like she was a DOG!

Anyways, much to our disgust we went upstairs and slept or whatever. The next day a caretaker told us that everyone though she came from our house and a few hours later we had an eviction notice in the form of our landlord standing at the door. What a shitty situation har har har! We naturally explained that we don't get that... SHIT faced, when out and about and that we are also aware of where the toilets are if we do need to use them but alas, it was all in vane, that was the final nail in my eviction from number 23 Kirwan's Court. And while we didn't shit on our own doorstep, someone else happily did it for us.

So that was the story of how I wound up perched here, gazing sexily out the window with come-hither-to eyes contemplating the next step in my exceedingly unpredictable life (when I say that I mean bad luck), which is in part why I came back to this.

For now, I bid you adieu, until next time I say, don't shit yourselves, it's not cleanly and it may get people evicted from their apartments!

Toodles!