Trips to Cork are always fun. In this case however, calling it fun might be pushing it just a bit! It was Jamie’s birthday so I felt obliged to make the €20 trip down to the Peoples Republic to take part in a special blend of session – Guitar Hero combined with copious amounts of alcohol. I can’t think of a single downside to that type of session which is probably why the more conservative among you think I have a problem!
Guitar Hero makes time fly by and it’s an entertaining side game in itself to see who can reach for their bottle the most times during their brief moments of respite during the RSI-inducing songs while still trying to keep their combo’s going! There were a few close shaves which saw me revisit my toddler years with dribble running down my chin followed by an innocent giggle. Only I assume that those times of bliss all those years a go didn’t involve Miller Genuine Draft. Time flew so quickly that it felt like one minute we were being told that a taxi was going to take 15 minutes to arrive and the next we were being hurried outside to an impatient driver. I was later to discover that this wasn’t actually Guitar Hero warping time and in fact it did only take a minute for the taxi to arrive! This posed quite a few problems for the people still getting ready but more importantly I was left with a full bottle of Buckfast to chug off in record time. It was probably for the best that I didn’t quite finish it!
I had €40 in my wallet and was worried that it might not be enough. I mean in Waterford that gets you into a club, 3 drinks and some food. In Cork though, €40 gets you 13 drinks with some change left over for a Rubber Patty Hamburger at the end of the night. Forgetting about Cork’s drinks offers until the very last minute proved to be a very pleasant surprise at the time but wreaked havoc given my dirty habit of longing to spend every penny in my wallet on a night out!
I would describe the night as being “messy”, a word I’ve noticed myself attach to a lot of nights out as of late, and this is where my blog starts jumping back and forth between the realms of fact and fiction as I struggle to piece together my night after about 1 am. I originally thought that only about 5 minutes of the night were “hazy” but I now realise that I’m being particularly ambitious with the 5 minutes of “haziness” and it’s more like a blank canvas with the occassionally blob of indeterminable paint thrown on every once in a while. Translation: I was absolutely rat-arsed!
I remember buying drinks. I remember dancing. I remember getting my coat. I remember talking about whores to Patrick. I remember buying chicken. I remember trying to eat a chicken wing whole. I remember coughing up chicken bones. I remember getting a taxi. I remember a mug of tea. I remember a burnt hand. Mine 
.
My phone started going crazy at this stage and I was going crazy too because I can’t answer the thing since I dropped it in a puddle last week. That’s 3 phones in as many weeks for me, but that’s a story for another day! I was no longer with the birthday boy and the group I was out with and instead found myself having my neck attacked. I knew it was going to be bad as my entire left side of my neck felt as if it was set on fire with jet fuel or something. I naturally repaid the favour (although I could have the order of events mixed up there 
).
A quick look in the mirror when I woke up those morning confirmed my fears. It’s fucking big! In the past I’ve been able to write them off as being shaving rashes but in this case I’ll probably have to stop short of saying that it’s malaria! Or I could tell work the truth……….
So for the next 4-12 days, I’m a redneck . Great night though!