ireland smells like bacon. great times, and i really want to go back again soon. i think of the great week we had there: pissing on dave’s backpack (one of us did it, and im 100% sure it wasn’t me, well maybe it wasnt), me buying drinks for the whole bar – especially that awesome old couple, anthony dancing some dude, frank calling himself francis – but the little irish girl catching on and calling him frenchman, leaning over the cliffs of moher and spitting off, annie and the Canadian stragler squeezing into the trunk so we could fit two confused germans in the car, opening the trunk in the middle of killarney, annie and me invited to an exclusive hotel party where we subsequently got kicked out for some girl pissing off the roof – yeah, they lost their shelter for the night and we fucking booked, me gettign hit on by the swiss girl (and then her running away after buying me a drink) while anthony got raspberries blown in his face by girls he was trying to pick up, monica hookin up with the hicks from the far south – US, that is (sweet home alabama, anyone?)… awww fuck it, im goin back.