Boobs in Ireland

Here is an excerpt from my friend Mashley who joined me for my Ireland leg of my trip:

I went to Ireland and rented a car and drove on the wrong side of the road and got lost in the Irish countryside on roads that looked big on the map but in reality were only wide enough for barely one car, let alone two, or one car and a horse pulling a buggy.
I loved Ireland. We rented a car in Cork but almost immediately drove to Blarney Castle. I kissed the Blarney stone, although later I learned that the men that help you kiss it also pee on it. How disappointing for guys whose job it is is basically to look down at boobs all day. To kiss the Blarney stone you have to lay on your back and lean back, suspending your head over many stories above the ground. So my friend took a picture of me kissing the Blarney stone and all that appear in the picture are my boobs.
Then we drove to Galway. We had a hostel right in the middle of everything, which was great. There were a ton of pubs with live traditional music, which was AWESOME. The next day (after getting lost even with a GPS) we drove to Connemara, which is supposedly one of the most beautiful places in Ireland. I agree. Then we went to the Cliffs of Moher, which were windy enough to knock us over, and we ended up having dinner randomly in a tiny town which also had live music. We got to Cork late and were going to couch surf but since it was so late we just slept in the airport and when I couldn’t sleep I experimented with putting on every piece of clothing I brought to lighten up my suitcase, so that I wouldn’t get charged to check it for 30 euro with my laptop inside!
Then we flew to Dublin and saw Trinity College and the book of Kells, and also went to the Guinness factory and the Jameson whisky factory. Both were fun. We couch surfed with a couple, a Polish girl and a German man, as well as another couple from Texas being hosted. The guy used to be a drug dealer until he was arrested for 7 felonies and then experienced a conversion and got a degree in theology. The girl used to be Catholic and a NET minister and then converted to “the Vineyard”. We had some really interesting and spiritual gratifying conversation over a Guinness.

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One thought on “Boobs in Ireland

  1. You’re right: a job of looking at boobs all day is just disappointing. I’m sure that gets really, really old after the first 103 years on the job.

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