Ah the cities I’ve seen in the last year: London, Paris, Toledo, Detroit, Buffalo, Oxford…the list doesn’t go on and on because that’s the list right there. Until tomorrow when Dublin can be added to that list. Unless I die before I get there which I’m not planning on doing and would be miffed about if it did happen.
I ain’t not never been to Dublin before. Waterford is the closest I’ve been to an Irish city and that’s just a big old town down south. So I am excited to be seeing new sights, hearing fresh sounds, tasting Irish stout like I’ve never known it before because it’s best in Dublin, the whole world says.
I’m not excited about flying, as I mentioned yesterday. Flying can go buy a bag of dicks from whichever emporium it is that sells dicks by the bagload, and then flying can suck that bag of dicks until hell freezes over or until I come back from Dublin still not dead, whichever is soonest.
Thursday, then. And no matter how many bags of dicks flying sucks I still have to board aeroplanes in order to make this particular trip happen. Why oh why oh why oh why didn’t I remember that boats exist and that they have tiny other boats attached to them in case they start to go a bit sinky, unlike planes which do not have tiny other planes attached to them if they go a bit plummety? I’m a fool to myself, I really am.
Nervous? Whatever gives you that impression?