Now I don't want to make a big deal out of this but

I hate Irish girls! They are the most miserable bunch of C U Next Tuesdays that I have ever witnessed. In some regards I am thankful for them because they periodically remind me how cool other girls are. Now it doesn't bother me or anything... I'm just saying I wish they would all explode of herpes, not that I care though... Did I mention that I hate them?

After the glory of the man with no shame on Friday myself and Mad Mal hit Manchester to watch Man Utd (Mal is a big Manchester Utd supporter) play Blackburn at Old Trafford on the saturday. Good game, ended up 2-1 to Man Utd. Looks like Utd have the league in the bag now after this weekend actually. 

"WTF?!? I hate Soccer! Get on with it!"

OK OK Jesus!! Well after the game we met up with a friend of Mals, Deco, who is a student up there in Manchester. Sure enough, we went to some shit hole student bar in the middle of town with Deco and a couple of his hippy student pals to imbibe a few post match beverages. As we sat in that shit hole bar, firing down cheap drinks I was was flooded with nostalgic glee thinking of my student days of yore (most of which was spent in a drunken stupor completely devoid of female attention, obliviously delighted) and we decided to stay with the students and relive our university years. Magic!!

Well that was of course until a bunch of thundering Irish cunts arrived into the place. They knew the lads there supposedly and had just come back from winning some trophy for being bitches or something. 

You see readers a very odd thing happens when I come into contact with extended social circle Irish girls... for some strange reason, that I am completely boggled by, the miserable bitches are completely immune to my charm! I absolutely don't get it! 

Well cos I am such a sweet guy I attempt to make some polite conversation with one of them anyway, giving them the benefit of the doubt... Get this! The ignorant so and so didn't even have the decency to laugh at my jokes or fluff her hair about or stare at me in awe or get all submissive or anything... Not even a fucking giggle. I repeat this procedure a few more times and similar patterns emerge. One of them has the cheek to look disinterested and back turn me!! I feel like grabbing the she devil and turning her back around to explain how this works!

"Excuse me she-bitch but you appear to be confused as to how this works.... I talk to you for 2 minutes, you get all giggly and excited. Then we talk normal for a bit and make a little connection. After that I talk to you about how I would fuck you but for some arbitrary barriers I throw out there... Get it?"

Nothing. Not that I care or anything but these chicks should be clamoring for my sweet validation. So being that I am completely stumped by these behaviour patterns I decide to emulate my hero CJ and put on my scientists hat to figure out what is going on... Using some advanced scientific data analysis patterns I came up with a number of theories.

a.) They are a coven of witches.

b.) It's somehow Ross's fault (I am blaming him for everything bad that happens to me as of late).

c.) I am so cool that they all feel disqualified to be with me.

Theory 'c' had to be later ruled out as one of the really heinous ones kept trying to feel me up, leaving theory 'a' and theory 'b' the only viable options. 

Later on we hit some student club where I got hammered and talked to some normal girls. Had a good bash at getting one of them back to the hotel, alas her friends saved her from a night of very angry sex. Then myself and Mal, empty and alone, wandered the streets of Manchester completely shitfaced until 4am. 

I burned the ear off of Mal for the whole journey back to London about what bitches they were. I don't care though because I am internally validated... 

Fucking Bitches! 

The man with no shame!

So the whole crew was out last Friday for a portion of revelry seasoned with a little pinch of devilment. A shit heap of Irish girls that Jake knows were there also. These girls were actually pretty cool although not the most attractive collection of females I've ever seen. In fact if I was being an asshole, I would say they were completely fucking wrecked! And, of course, I am going to be an asshole for the duration of this story (makes for a more amusing reading experience I find). Right, also in attendance was a guy Mal knows, from Northern Ireland, and his pal who shall be named Frank!

We all went to this place called Abacus around the Banking district. It was my first time in the venue. Fucking carnage! By 7pm its a full scale disco meat market, complete with drunken wanna-be bankers and truck loads of Essex chicks looking to bag a rich guy. As Ross pointed out, these are not the type of girls you'd be going on dates holding hands with. 

So everyone is happy out! Ross is trying to look cool (and pulling it off), Mal is knocking back the drinks (and pulling it off with great aplomb), I'm off rapping with a couple of girls (not doing too badly at all) and Jake is keeping the beasties company (like a true professional). It's right then that I notice something very peculiar happening... Out of the corner of my eye I see Frank and one of the Irish girls (the one who Mal was referring to as The Whale). I have to check twice cos I just can't believe my eyes... Frank is sucking the fucking face off her!! In plain fucking view of all of us!! I am shocked. Frank is a good looking guy and the whale is well a whale... A great Leviathan, at least 1200lbs with eyes like steel, cold and hard. A great shock of hair she had, red like the fires of hell. 

Now don't get me wrong I've scored plenty fat girls in my day (and will again) but NEVER in front of the lads or anything! I'm thinking, this guy is a fucking disgrace... Mauling this chick in plain view of everyone, shameless! 

But then I started thinking about it... Frank clearly doesn't give a fuck what we think about him. Fair play to him. He wanted to do it... so he did it! Ingenious. The sheer brazenness of it was liberating! Like if I was out with a group of guys I didn't know, I'd be pretending to be cool for the first while. Franko, my new hero, didn't even give it a second thought! He is like the anti-Ross, who is constantly overwhelmed with concern about what others might be thinking about him. And let that be a lesson to all of you. Who cares what anyone else thinks as long as you are happy (and not hurting anyone else obviously). 

Later that night we switched venues. The Whale was literally trying to eat Frank... Mal was going to ask if she wanted some sprinkles. I do mean literally by the way. I saw lots of biting. Now Jake being the sweet guy that he is obviously didn't want Frank to feel bad about what he was doing and so flung himself upon the sword and started to maul another one of the beasties. I named this one the Riddler, as she bore an uncanny resemblance to the character, of the same name, in Batman Forever when his face started to morph at the end. Good work also! 

I met the most amazing girl in the second venue by the way. Not the best looking I've ever seen but her personality was amazing... So much fun to be around! It was one of those great situations where she had a BF and was applying some advanced girl logic. She wouldn't kiss me but she was completely fine with me molesting the bejeesus out of her. She was only in town that night so I won't be seeing her again. I probably could have gotten back to the hotel her and her pals were staying in but I had to be up very early to go to Manchester with Mal (I'll write about that tomorrow) and would need to be guaranteed sex to forgo sleep. 

Anyway... The moral of this story is that whenever I have a decision to make from now on I will ask myself... 

"What would the shameless man do?"

Then I will make out with a fat chick!

PS I am an asshole for calling those girls names like that, they were actually very nice. I got on quite well with them all and I generally *HATE* Irish chicks. Don't worry, I do feel bad about it and I got my comeuppance the following day. Although two of them got sex that night and I didn't... the bitches!

Entrapment - A Short Story by Crazy Horse

Entrapment:

OK folks, Uncle CH here has been invited to tell a few stories so buckle up, sit back and enjoy the ride.  I have subjected myself to a lifetime of abuse so you don’t have to or at least you can cut to the good stuff sooner.   

I title this chapter in the day as “Entrapment” because a place that serves you liters of beer, gorges you on mountains of bratwursts and parades a bunch of idiots around you is only asking for this sort of trouble.  I probably glossed over a few points and I’ll leave it to Connor to fill in his version of the events (which I am sure will be nothing but a vicious pack of lies to besmirch my good name).  The shame of it all was this was my favorite bar. Members of our pack have since tried to get in only to be turned away.  I have very few regrets in life but this is one of them.  

There was an infamous trip where Mal and Connor had come to visit me in New York.  It was Mal’s first trip and undoubtedly his last (for shame). Day 3 into this trip we had already single-handedly funded the educational aspirations of New York’s finest strippers and had decided to do something special in light of our plans to attend Oktoberfest later that year.  The day started off innocently enough with calling a few barroom heroes to meet up at my place for Rock Band, beer, shots and generally get prepped for the day ahead, it was 10 AM after all. I should add that I was masterful on the (mock) guitar while Connor pulled a diva refusing to play the songs on the set list (*I told you I wouldn't sing gay sings unless you got me the tray of green M&Ms, edited by Connor*) . 

We finally staggered out of the apartment around 1 and got to the bar by 3 - a trek that should have taken 30 mins but lasted. Moving this drunken lot was like herding cats which we all know this is difficult even for a Scotsman with a claymore in hand on a dark and stormy night confronted by cats, which is secretly a coven of witches.  PDP be praised but I digress. 

Anyhoo, we get to Zum Schneiders which is a classic German beer garden filled with a never ending series of hipster douchebags that now populate the lower east side of NYC.  Gone are the glory days of hardcore, squatters, homeless and the shamelessly horny. Now it is all Disney and NYU. A friend of mine who had been waiting for us there told me that we had to “catch up” by chugging a liter of beer.  Despite drinking all morning I found myself incapable of arguing with that sort of logic so I obliged. Over the next several hours we consumed six-seven liter steins of beer and a mountain of bratwursts.  Mind you Connor and I were not ordering the food, our friends were. We were just the guardians of the pass and exacted a heavy toll on any order the waitress tried to get past us. 

We were quickly descending into madness when the waitress recognized Connor and I, because we are awesome of course, but also because we tried to tell her our friend Kal Varnson was in love with her and proceeded to start an impromptu version of the dating game among the attendees. The cacophony from our table kept rising as I tried to lead the bar in a rousing rendition of “Deutschland, Deutschland uber alles” thinking it was the German national anthem and Connor posing for every camera in attendance. Somewhere in this mess I noticed a group of hipsters gathering at the table next to us. They were all wearing the uniform – jeans, button up shirt (tucked in) and baseball caps.  Like a bull I zeroed in on the one wearing the red cap who immediately drew my ire with his inability to chug a liter. A stein got broken and our friend Rousseau (a rugby-sized French chef) grabbed one of them by the throat.  While technically they did nothing at all to us I am sure they deserved it.  The cowered off in the face of our sheer machismo but it was at this point that the manager, rather arbitrarily I might add, now decided it was time for us to leave.  Filthy Phil pleaded with them in German that we would behave and from the jaws of defeat we were saved and allowed to continue on with our festivities.  Unfortunately, this is when the evening started to take a dark turn. LOL 

Bathroom break - this is when things go a bit grey.  Mal and Filthy Phil were conversing about god knows what when I spun 180 degrees to punch a mirror directly behind me.  I have no idea why I did this but I am sure there numerous Freudian implications.  So now I am standing there with glass embedded in my hand when the manager opened the door. “You’re out!” “For what!?!” I snarled back before breaking up into laughter.  I kick opened the stall door in the bathroom to grab Connor who had now fallen asleep, no idea how I knew he was in there.  We begin to stagger out the door, breaking steins on our way, trying to figure out where to carry on the party. Most sane people would go home at this point but we carried on – after all what I thought was a broken hand only turned out to be a severe infection.  Who would have thought a bathroom mirror would have been so dirty. 

Its 6pm, we have no idea where the children are and I am looking for personal redemption. 

Redemption:

After the debacle at Zum Schneiders, we decided that we needed to go to a place where we could chill out a bit.  It seemed some of us, not saying me, were getting a bit unruly and at this point, the bratwursts and beer were storming my stomach like the Wehrmarcht across Poland.  BTW – I can make WWII jokes.  My uncle died in a concentration camp during the war.  He fell off a watch tower. 

We ended up at a hookah bar to smoke water pipes. The world was already in a terminal spin so why not add some Turkish tobacco.  I am starting to realize that I am going to be down for the count soon unless I do something drastic so I go to the bathroom, luckily no mirrors, to purge and rally.  It works like a charm and I am on the rebound. 

Connor by this time is on the dancing floor like a whirling dervish teaching the belly dancer some new moves. I grab both hookah pipes, tear off the filters and imbibe the sweet, sweet nectar….

*If I remember correctly, after that we returned to the non-judgemental solace of our neighbourhood strippers, edited by Connor*

The End

hahahahahaha

OK OK OK OK ! Trekked up to training last night after a pain in the ass day in work. When I got there I couldn't help but notice that my fucking pass code to get into the academy wasn't working properly. So I start hammering on the door, wondering what the fuck, cos I am late for class and shit! 

So my pal Jamie(he is a jiu jitsu bum, basically hangs around the BJJ school for a living) opens the door a tincy bit and pokes his head out. 

"Jamie, why won't the code work?"

"Did you not hear? Training is off today. We're doing er... refurbishments"

Now I'm thinking there is something suspicious going on here

"What the fuck is that noise in the background?"

"err... nothing, I'm not supposed to let anyone in"

"haha let me in shithead!"

"haha OK OK come in but don't tell anyone!!"

BEHOLD there is fucking disco lights everywhere and the whole place has been transformed in to a swanky night club. Holy christian leper babies! It transpires that the place has been rented out for one of the after parties to the Brit awards(this is like the British equivalent of the Grammy awards for those of you in the states). Jamie has been charged with making sure the people setting it up won't break anything and it will commence in 3 hours! I burst out laughing! hahaha, brilliant! Everything is coming up Connor. 

So I spend the next 2 hours shooting the shit with Jamie. After that I start to work! Basically stand around looking important, grab myself a backstage pass, schmooze with security a little bit and tuck into the free cocktails. Then I spy a couple of suspiciously good looking people all wearing Adidas gear. So it turns out Adidas have hired 10 models to just go to this thing and wear Adidas kit... what a fucking job man! Anyhoo, I start yakking away to 2 of the girls. 

The whole marketing press, know someone who knows someone crowd being to arrive around 2200 and very strangely dressed people start to flow in about 2300, I'm assuming they are the more famous ones? I have one of these Adidas models running around getting me drinks, I am making her stop random people to tell them I am the most attractive man she has ever seen, we are having pose offs for the camera man that is floating around and she is running around to find pen and paper to write her number on for me. This is hilarious!

Cut to 0030 and I am in the corner making out with the Adidas model, Estelle(who is the only famous person I recognised there) is singing a few songs on stage and on the inside of my head I am laughing very heartily!

Although I definitely think I could have taken more advantage of this it was still not at all a bad Wednesday night

A Celtic Wedding

On Saturday my cousin (who also lives in London) married her Scottish Boyfriend of 5 years. The wedding took place in Ireland. Here is a brief overview of my day...

1300 Went to church for nice but slightly cheesy wedding ceremony. The organ player was hammered I think. She kept fucking up. I thought it was very funny.

1430 Went to pub beside church, drank 5 amazing pints of Guinness (I hate Guinness in Ireland. It is just too delicious in small country bars, I just can't stop drinking it).

1700 One or two of the Scots were already shitfaced! I went to wedding reception and began operation catch up.

1800 Sat down to meal. I devoured a delightful 4 course feast which included a sumptuous cut of Scottish Angus beef,  mouth watering wild Irish smoked salmon, 3 shots of Jameson whiskey(neat), 3 glasses of a slightly demure yet satisfying Australian red and all polished off with a baileys coffee.

2030 At this stage the party was in full flow. Myself and Paddy(my other cousins husband) were hitting the Vodka and Sodas pretty hard.

2200 And libations are on overdrive! I recall Paddy hitting on chicks right in front of his wife and winking over at me while doing it. I thought this was very funny. The father of the bride had hijacked the mic from band and was singing songs for about 30 minutes. He was amazing... not so much his singing ability but rather the fact that he could still stand up considering the state he was in. 

0030 Due to Paddy's roving eye and by now total incoherence he had been dragged home by his wife. The next few hours is a blur but I do remember trying to line dance (WTF?) on the main stage to Toto's, most excellent, "I won't hold you back", which I had requested. There was piggy backs, there was sucking helium out of balloons and there was a LOT of jager bombs. 

They just don't make em like that anymore

0430 When my brain cells got their act together again a  girl was giving out to me because I informed her I had no intention of getting a girlfriend anytime in the near future. 

"But Connor, why not?"

"Cos I just want to fuck them... see?"

"OMG thats terrible!!!"

"HAHA YES, yes it is!"

 A group of us were still going strong. People were playing guitar and singing Irish and Scottish songs. Some really generous dude was buying champagne for the bridesmaids and the bride. In my drunken wisdom I decided it would be a fabulous idea to drink it for them. ha ! I consciously realized how hammered I was when I tried to play guitar for everyone and slowly figured out that I couldn't quite get my fingers to make the required chords... And I couldn't get the other hand to strum for that matter. Being in similar positions at one or two other points in my life and knowing the best cure for this ailment I decided to drink more jagerbombs.

0530 We all got told to get out of the hotel bar, stop singing and generally clear off. I called my aunt (not at the wedding) who lives near by and requested she come pick me up. And, she actually came and got me. Fair play to Auntie Maggie there! The next day she told me that I kept her up until 7 to lecture her my on new theories regarding evolution and how the conscious mind is little more than a spin doctor, telling us lies to maintain the illusion of being nice and in control. Priceless information that will keep her in good stead for many years to come!

And that, as they say... was that! Nothing too insane, was great fun though!

No point to this one

I met up with my ex girlfriend here in Ireland yesterday evening. Her dad died recently and I wanted to make sure she was OK and cheer her up and shit. 

Back when I was a total fucking retard I somehow managed to get her to be my GF. Actually it was because she was my friends sister and I somehow pulled a few moves out of the bag hammered one night. I thought she was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen and to this day I have no idea what she saw in me back then. While going out with her I was a complete mess and I just couldn't understand why she didn't feel the way about me that I did about her. I was super needy and super retarded. If one was looking for a fantastic tool to model other tools on I certainly would have been a good candidate. 

After we broke up I was so pissed with her, like, in my head everything was her fault. She was a bitch for that and a bitch for that. I was pretty hurt and to be honest I kinda hated her a little bit. After I first read the book the game I was thinking... Oooh I'll get really good with girls and that will show her or I'll be really successful in London and that would show her! 

I met her last night for the first time in about 2 years or more. I don't want to sound like a douche but I am a hell of a lot cooler now than I was back then. And you know what... I didn't want to show her anything. I just wanted her to be happy. She is just a sweet girl and I was a dope for acting the way I did back then. I didn't wanna fuck her and I didn't want to make her think I am cool now. I just wanted to make sure she is OK and make her feel good. We hung out for 5 hours, basically me talking a lot, making her laugh and saying shit to make her feel better. In fact I felt like an idiot for ever wanting to show her anything. It was really nice actually. I made extra sure not to try and make any moves. I did NOT want to kiss her or anything, even though I think it would have been easy "just happen". She text'd me today thanking me for cheering her up saying she hadn't laughted like that in ages. Man, I just hope that she finds a great guy(or that her current guy takes care of her and isn't an ass clown like I was) and has a great life or something like that. 

I don't know what the point of any of this is really. Its just the way I'm feeling right now.

Oh, I don't wanna come off all, like, I used to be an idiot and now I'm so cool or anything. I still don't know what I am at half the time... I am just 100% sure nobody else does either. Oooh apart from CJ maybe, he appears to be a genius. 

 :) 

The next week

Hello boys and girls, 

Your favourite blogger Connor is jetting off to Ireland now tomorrow for my cousins wedding, which is taking place at the weekend. Thus I will be taking a rest from getting in trouble and regaling you all with ridiculous stories until next week. I know how this is likely to make you all very upset... but hang in there.... I will be back soon.

Well actually now that I think about it this wedding, being that it is my family, is sure to have a couple of moments of insanity and I fully intend to completely obliterate myself at it so I might have a story to tell come Monday after all. 

In other news my friend Crazy Horse (who is crazy by the way) is going to inscribe a little guest article for the blog. He feels compelled to clear up the Mexico incident which I had previously alluded to in the "getting to know crazy horse" post. Which is kinda funny because when he mentioned what really happened it was quite a bit worse than what I had made out.

Well that's it for now so shake it easy!