Journal, Diary, & Blogging / "Fuck Me, I'm Irish." Thai-arrhea, Aids, And Chronic Foot Conditions
Thoughts On…
Being a Mick:
I am presently filling out my application for Irish Citizenship by Decent. My mother is an Irish citizen, which I just found out entitles me to obtain dual citizenship… which means I don’t have to denounce my status as an American. Free reign to travel about the EU? Sounds good… as soon as I get some fuckin’ money. I have been to Ireland twice. The first time I went, I was mugged at knife-point in a park in Dublin called St. Stephen’s Green. I was only 12 at the time. I know better than to talk to large groups of rowdy-looking strangers now. The second time I went I was seventeen. I got fuckin’ drunk… a lot! Yup, I’m Irish
Life in Chicago:
Chicago is a very multi-cultural city. It’s not uncommon to wander into the polish part of town and find a chinese restaurant owned by some mexicans. ”Hello, can I have the Lo Mein de Carne Asada and a glass of pivo?...Do you have german beer? No? Okay, make it an Old Style.”
I actually met this couple from Gahna that opened a pizzeria. It was called Gahna-Ria. Some Thai people tried to do the same thing, but they were closed for health reasons.
Another new invention idea:
Dad in a box: The fun new way to take your dad to parties. When describing one of your fathers hilariously embarrassing idiosyncrasies to friends, it would be great if you could just open up a box and POOF! Dad jumps out to demonstrate. As soon as dad is finished you just stuff him right back in that box. No point in him hanging around to spoil up the fun.
To clarify just exactly what I am talking about, my dad will latch onto really bad recurrent jokes. For Instance: In the early 1990’s my older cousin was living with us. Do you remember the first Dr. Dre album; the Chronic? Remember the Deez Nuts skit that Snoop does? It’s like a prank telephone call to a girl… about halfway through the album. Listen to it if you don’t know what I mean. Anyway, my cousin and his friends would all use this joke on one another. Eventually, my dad became wise to it, and would get everyone with this fucking joke… constantly. Even now, 12 years after the joke is out style he will say: “Hey, guess who I saw today?” And I will be like, “Who?” And he’ll be like, “Deez Nuuuuuuutz!!!” Fuckin’ dork. See what I have to put up with?
Contractions:
I was very disappointed today to find out that I was not the first person to observe the frequent absence of the contraction of who are in written English… which of course is who’re.
Wheelchair racing:
I wonder if anyone has ever said, “I really want to race in the Special
Olympics, but my wheelchair is a complete piece of shit… I’ll get killed.”
Having too much money:
If I ever had way too much money (which seems completely inconceivable at this point in time) I would have fun with it. I think I’d leave fifty-dollar bills in the urinals of public toilets and piss all over them. Then I would hang out at the sink pretending to wash my hands until someone came along who was desperate enough to pick it up, rinse it off, and dry it under the hand dryer.
Child profanity in cinema:
I miss hearing kids cuss in movies. Remember the 1980’s, all those kids cussing in movies? What happened? You never hear that any more. There is just something emotionally satisfying about hearing an eleven year-old say, “You’re a fuckup!” So, to fulfill this need, I now have to go to the mall with a stack of one-dollar bills and pay unsupervised little kids to cuss for me. There is nothing a kid won’t do for a couple of bucks… especially in Thailand.
Corn shoes:
Apparently the Green Party, PETA people among us have now taken a preference to sneakers composed of a corn-based plastic instead of traditional leather. I tried a pair of these shoes, but after a few days I developed these sore spots on the edges of my feet. I went to visit a Podiatrist the following week. He took one look at my feet and said: “Those are corns.”
My jokes:
Getting my jokes is like getting AIDS… no one wants to, but everyone will eventually.
Spooning:
A girl asked me if I liked spooning. I replied: “I prefer forking.”
You need to log in to urbis or create an urbis account to review this writing.
Reviews
Sort Reviews by Newest | Oldest | Highest Quality | Lowest Quality | Newest Comments |
January 04, 2007
Deleted User
This 44 word review has not been unlocked.
You are right about it being a lite read. It is also well written and entertaining story. Your set-up, format is easy to read and follow. The bold title of each section is a bookmark of giggles. Having to much money was a riot to read . That’s my favorite section. I enjoy a good lite read. But yours let me hungry for more. Can’t wait to taste more..
- add/view comments (0)
Life in Chicago is a riot! Your sense of humor is for stand-up comedians. Forget writing groups! Check out the comedy clubs!hahaha..
I liked being a mick and life in Chicago. The money in the urinal is just mean..lol
right to the point and sarcastic.
Dad in a box is brilliant.
Showing 1 - 5 of 5
GENERAL
REVIEW QUEUE
Ratings & Rankings| Version 2 |
| Version 1 |





Review item
Add to faves

