Mandatory Man Dates

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Loose ends. Tie them in. Previous blogaruu in two. Clever thing would probably be to delay this but plough on! Quantity all the way! Gemini. Exit route. As I was saying, it is good to know that with people who are into their star-signs here, being a Gemini is a way out for any of my actions or lack of actions. For the chopping and changing of my mind. Everything can be explained and fit into a hole, if the person is big into astrology. Added to this, not knowing any better as ‘I’m Irish, uh-huh, chortle’ seems to be the key for any words that may be construed one way or the other. Or, as I was told last night, for the way I dressed. It was ok though. My style was acceptable due to me being Irish. Cheers. Overall though… Gemini. Irish. Giddy up. Although, I do have one issue with the whole being Irish thing.

1/17th Too Man!!!

Just the one really. More than I don’t really get it. Don’t get me wrong, being Irish here is the cream of the crop. For example, I am a fan of the folk who seem to think every single drink in the entire world is brewed in Cork. Lying to themselves to keep their 1/17th slice of Irishness in them happy. Buying me a drink with them to celebrate that drink being brewed in Cork. Me nodding along. Sipping up their German ale. Which they know for a fact is brewed in Cork, Ireland. Accepting their round of Scottish whiskey. That’s actually brewed in Cork, Ireland. Where they have been. But can’t remember enough details to tell me anything about it, i.e, spoofy macs. I am a fan of those aspects.

Even incidents where guys tell me they’re delighted to meet an Irish guy over in L.A. Why so? Because their ex-girlfriend is from Scotland. Oh right. For the sake of this conversation with you, my ex-girlfriend is from Canada. And you’re American. Same thing, right? Isn’t that amazing?! I was in Mexico before! And you’re from America! Isn’t that just as amazing as me being Irish and you visited Denmark that one time. More or less the same country! Identical! High five. Yes, this tequila was brewed in Cork, Ireland. Where I’m from! The home of tequila! Good work buddy!!! So, I don’t mind that at all, good laugh to be honest.

Say It Again, Sam.

The bit I’m not really a fan of, is the whole concept of ‘You must meet this guy over here!’ Why? ‘He’s Irish! You’re Irish! Y’all must meet!’… ‘How’s it going?’ Not too bad. ‘Are you Irish? ‘ Yup. ‘I‘m Irish.’ Yeah, me too. ‘Whereabouts?’ Cork. ‘I’m from Dublin.’ That’s cool. ‘Yeah.’ Ok. ‘Cool’. See ya later bud. ‘Yeah, have a good one.’ A mandatory pleasantry. Why? Because we’re both Irish. So we surely either a) Know each other. Or, b) Will get on like a house on fire. As opposed to the reality, c) Would prefer to have fun with the people who think our accent is the greatest thing since the George Foreman was invented. Exhibit A has the looks. Exhibit B is ugly. Exhibit C has an accent. Give me a quick look at C again, I want to hear him say nay again for me. 

Even that situation, a quick yank of the plaster style meet and greet in the pub isn’t too bad. Although when they’re in Van Morrison’s band it does make it slightly more interesting. Still though, over and out, friendship purely based on both of ye being Irish is never good. Thinking about it that way, the potential friendship is hanging on very thin ice. One slight change and it goes from something you wouldn’t even dreamed of being asked to do. Change it back and people think again it is an obligation.

Wait. With A 'C'?

A mandatory act. To go on a man-date with a guy because he too is Irish. You don’t know him. In fact, no connection, at all. No friend of a friend of a sister’s friend’s cousin’s friend. Not even that distant. Just that ye’re both Irish. Ye should meet up. Ye would have plenty to talk about. Why? Irish. Meet up with the Irish guy. An arranged friendship. Do it! You must!!! However, a simple change of a letter, and the question wouldn’t even be raised. Even if that guy was the biggest laugh ever. Ye could possibly turn out to be best friends for life, ye have that much in common. Birds of a feather. Kindred spirits. ‘Seriously, you should meet this guy. Ah wait, hold up, hang on.’ What? ‘My bad, no need. Mandatory man-date rules no longer apply.‘ Why? What happened?! ‘He’s actually from Iceland. Just weird if you met up with him now!’

Song on. One for the Icelandic folk…

Boy Lilikoi – Jonsi

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6 thoughts on “Mandatory Man Dates

  1. Aye, aye, aye…
    I understand you perfectly.
    Just because I have reddish hair,
    ruddy arms, and freckles out the ass. :)

    No, really. I was doing my runabout,
    and decided to play some leprechaun tag.

    Thanks for the smiles. You’re it!

    (Burp) UT

  2. Brilliant! Love these topics about cities and countries.

    Like when I say I’m from Barcelona; everybody wants to know if I’ve ever met Messi. As if…

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