Drive My Car by The Beatles

Hey Gays!

 

So, It’s finally summer here. Like it’s warm, no more of this take-a-coat-before-your-nipples-fall-off bullshit. And I’m loving it!

I’m thinking of changing my college course. I’m doing a maintenance and services engineering course at the moment, but an finding it wholly unsatisfying. Like an unscratchable itch, almost.

I want to work with people, like in the hospitality industry.

So that’s exactly what I’m doing now. I’m applying for a clatter of courses online, I have an interview next Monday already and just in general, I’m pursuing my future.

 

She’s this older woman (55-60) who is on my bus every morning without fail. And then she proceeds to scowl, and nudge and cough until she gets a seat. The callous old hag!

Hey lady, if your well enough to work, you can stand. Not my fault your living in the ghetto, and I’m up in suburbia, righ’?

But this morning, she teeters onto the bus. And it accelerated, throwing her balance all over the shop. But then the bus driver STOMPS on the brakes, throwing everything forward suddenly. But she was still pushing towards the back of the bus, So she went FLYING on her HOOP! It was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. While all these frumpy business women helped her up, I was crippled with laughter. Like there was actual tears coming out my eyes.

And I was FUCKING REMORSELESS. It was a beautiful moment. Truly. I was ever chuckling to myself as I arrived to my first lecture. So la la la.

And then! We were sitting in McDonalds for lunch, and witnessed the greatest domestic EVER! These two junkies were a few tables over, and were obviously out of it on whatever your having yourself, thank you very much. But she was roaring at him. Firstly, she accused him of stealing her drugs. Which provided everyone with a nervous chuckle. Then, he grabbed her arm as she went to hit him, and she started calling him a “Burd Bash’r”, or bird basher, for those of you who don’t speak working class Dublin. They then both stood up in each others faces, missing teeth, unibrows, ponytails and pink tracksuits everywhere, right, and their screaming the place down. I should have recorded, in retrospect.

While this was going on, we witnessed a slaughter of McChicken sandwiches, like you’ve never seen. This couple, with their baby, sat next to us. And there was 5 McChicken Sandwiches and a thing of twisty fries. So yer man takes the twisty fries, and the girl (who was no ballerina) takes the 5 McChicken Sandwiches. And proceeds to devour them like a Fritzl! I was actually staring. Open mouth’d.

She was booting through them like mayonnaise induced weight-loss!

The Prime Time of Your Life by Daft Punk

Hey Gays!

 

So last night was pretty interesting. Basically, with college, we went out for Chinese food, fully paid for by college, handily enough. So at about 9, we were going to go out on the tear. This involved picking between The G, which is the twinkiest, for-show bar I’ve ever seen.

“OMG Julian look at that fucker! His BMI must be, like, OMG, double digits! Want to go purge and then judge people, based solely on their image while listening to generic dance music?”

So I was entirely against going to The G, I wanted to go to PantiBar, because it’s got such a nice, easygoing atmosphere, and even if you go out on your own, you’re guaranteed to meet someone and have a good time! So basically everyone went to The G, except myself and 2 of my friends, who happen  to be going out for the last 2 years! I was such a 3rd wheel. Until Tom reared his middle aged head!

He proceeded to prance around PantiBar in a Tina Turner wig, getting photographs with random stranger. It was a distressing state of affairs for my poor dignity! At one point he was chatting up the barman in French, while myself and the other barman were just looking at each other in blind confusion.

Then we went back to his, have a lovely chat and retired to separate beds at a respectable hour. This morning, getting home was quite an episode! He lives in like, north north Dublin, way outside the city. 2 busses and a lunatic asylum to get home. Jesus Christ, if I wasn’t blaring Dolly Partons Greatest Hits, I might have died!

Such a fun night. There always seems to be mischief when Tom’s about….

Aerial by Kate Bush

Hey Gays!

So I’ve been meaning to blog for ages now, but have just been too damn lazy, combined with a mad week in college, combined with little sleep. Just…anyway. I’m here now writing. Today, I was sitting in a ‘Maintenance principles of power transmission and control’ lecture, and just gathered my thoughts, drafted them in my phone and now I’m here to expand on them.

When I was writing the homeless post, I realised I didn’t have enough pictures of tramps, so I made it my mission to take more this week. And that I have! See?

 

Homeless!

Desolate!

Itinerant!

Vagabond!

Outcast!

Down-And-Out!

I’ve actually had a very productive week. I even buried a few of the dead homeless I found! See?

Just kidding! I planted potatoes. The shit thing is, this hasn’t been a particularly reproductive week. With all the stress flying about it, I’m dying for a good fuck and a spoon. Just a nice angry stress fuck. Let all my tension go. But alas, I’ve got none. I almost went really low and fucked the fugly guy who works in the coffee place in college with the microscopic cock and terrible attitude, but my good sense saved me!

Speaking of men, things with… (I’m shit with aliases, so I’m going to hit 45# in my phone and see what name come back. Gareth)

Gareth, it is! Things with Gareth are interesting now. Basically we’ve been fucking since before new years. But he’s straight, works for the government and can’t even peek outside the closet. So it’s all very sneaky.

But lately, he’s been opening up to me. Like rather than the usual fuckbuddy etiquette that’s involved, we talk about things. And he’s started putting x’s at the end of him messages. Straight guys don’t do that with other guys, right?

So we’re more like friends with benefits, rather than anything else at this point. I think it’s that I know his big dirty gay secret now, so he can open up about other things?

I’m pretty sure only Jack will understand this image.

 

I’m heading back to Jack during the summer hopefully. But I have a bit of a problem. Basically, I have to lie to my ‘rents to be able to disappear for the week. But. What lie? They are whores for details, so it’ll be tricky trying to be able to pull it off. Any suggestions are welcome, and I can’t tell them

“Oh, well I met this guy online after he read my online diary thing(my parents wouldn’t get the concept of a blog) and he’s really nice. I stayed with him in February. He’s mid 30s but he’s not a pervert. I met him on the internet”

I can see that going down so well. So I need to think!!

I volunteer at scouts teaching them things, just for badge work, and the like. So last night, we were doing first aid, and I asked this group of 11-14 year olds what the emergency number was. Nearly all of them said 911. 91 motherfucking 1. It’s 112 in Europe! And none, bar one knew that! I actually was a little bit disgusted. Then this group of children took out their mobile phones, testing the theory that 911 doesn’t work in Ireland. Turns out it actually does. 4 emergency calls were made last night, because they needed to prove me wrong.

Man, I’m getting old!

This. This Is Not A Post

Sam here….

This is more of an update/minipost than a real post….

My lovely week of pure and total shite is sadly coming to an end. I'm back to college tomorrow.

But alas!

Not all is lost. This week coming is DIT LGBT Rainbow Week. So basically we got a free room at Pantibar, and the college gave us €400 to put on an event.

This €400 went behind the bar, for committee members only.

It’s times like these, that I’m glad I’m PRO. There’s 4 on the committee.

€100 bar tab each.

I plan to work my way onto someone else's tab! Take that ambition!

It’s about 8 weeks until my end of year exams. And I am shitting it. Better get the fist out and start studying/going to lectures….

Current Listening - Dancing In The Dark by Bruce Springsteen

Fuck Fuckity Fuck Fuck Fuck

Sam here….

 

Fine. Fuck you Jack. You want depth, you’re also going to get my underdeveloped thoughts.

Unlike you Jack, I open Windows Live Writer and throw my brain at the keyboard, hoping it makes sense. You plan, and draft, and go through each word.

Fuck that.

Last night, on my way home I saw a man collapsed on the street, and these two men were standing there, talking like they were anywhere. Not over a man who obviously needed help. I wanted to take a picture, but I felt guilty because the two men were there. They obviously didn’t.

At the bus stop, I saw a homeless man get into a sleeping bag, consume 3 baguettes and a massive thing of starbucks(coffee?tea?).

I felt like giving him my coat, change and scarf because it was foggy and freezing last night. But I was afraid of offending him. I didn’t want to belittle him by trying to cram my charity upon him. What was I supposed to do? Charity or not?

How was I so shy. I fucking have no shame when it comes to the down and out. But last night I felt both guilt and compassion. and charity? Charity?! That is so not my game. I’m more of an ‘Sorry, I only have Visa’ man. But I went looking for change. €1.85 was all I had. And I felt it wasn’t enough for the man.

What the fuck is going on with me? If I was homeless I’d presume I’d have swallowed my pride, but wouldn’t want people thinking that. So is he the same. Or is he defeated and ready to be helped?

Maybe it’s because the usual ‘oh help me, I have my hands out. my face is dirty’ act doesn’t work on me, because they annoy me, to no end. But this guy in the sleeping bag wasn’t looking for help, he was looking for a quiet nights’ sleep. And I identified with him? I don’t know.

The following people aren’t being helped. And I don’t know how to justify why. (another unfinished thought, Jack!)

 

 

Current Listening - You Only Tell Me You Love Me When You're Drunk by Pet Shop Boys

Not Such A Smartarse

My Nokia E51 is capable of many many things.

 

It can read my messages to me in a load of different voices, manipulate stupid people with unsecure wifi. If I shout at it, it does what I tell it. It can survive drops, hold 3000+ messages, handle RSS feeds, install a clatter of applications. It can stream internet radio from laptop to phone via Bluetooth for 100 meters. It can survive a dunk in a cup of tea. It has support POP3, IMAP4, and SMTP protocols. (What does that actually mean though, while we’re on it??!) 8GB memory too.

Nokia have a lovely list here, actually!

But It just will not let me add a contact to the phonebook without freezing! Seriously. Every time I try to add a number, it just dies, straight off. Driving me nuts! I’ve downloaded music and applications from the fishiest of sources on it, and it just breezes through it. I was thinking of getting a phone to meet my new need for a phonebook;

The thing is, I actually used to have a black one of these.

Check those specifications!

4 hours talk time!? I’m sold!

 

 

 

 

 

Nokia. Get yer fundamentals right…

Current Listening - A Red Letter Day by Pet Shop Boys

Patricks Day

Sam here….

 

So, being Irish, you’d think I’d get all patriotic about St. Patricks Day, but alas! I fucking despise it! It’s a day for green vomit, overprices transport, stupid tourists drinking cider and wondering why their getting fined for a public order offence.

So my day started out like a cornflake, bland, in every sense of the word. We basically went to the city centre, and battled massive crowds of people pretending to be Irish so they can, maybe, just for a minute, be in line for inheritant incompetence and possibly alcoholism!

Right, so off to the park. The afternoon was spent laying in the grass in St. Stephens green. It was about 14 degrees Celsius and it was beautiful out! So after an afternoon of whiling my fabulous youth away, it was back to the suburbs, and into a friends house. Ordered a Chinese and started tucking into the Malibu!

Throughout all of these shenanigans, I was texting Tom, as in Gay Sky Hooker Tom! So I went to Pantibar to meet him and his lovely friends!

Gays, in the flesh, he is a little wet thing! I was only dripping! And so so generous, like he couldn’t do enough for me! So we went inside, and had a few scoops. His friends had a house up the road from Pantibar, and afterwards, we headed there for a few drinks.

A few drinks? I was there until 5AM chickens. Totally worth it though.

And the Australian accent is hot!

 

 

Current Listening – Eh Eh [Nothing At All] by Lady GaGa

March 17th

For those of you living under rocks today, it's Saint Patricks Day! So have a good one. 

I certainly will!

Life Goes On

 

Sam here….

 

Since my last outburst, things have improved. Basically I’m going to college, got all my assignments done.

Everything is looking up. The promise of summer is just around the corner, and it is looking well, to say the least!

I’ve got a few things in the pipeline. Oh, and I robbed a massive Starbucks mug today. I can fit my fist in it! See!

I’ve been meaning to steal one of these mugs for months!

 

Dar keeps texting me the most unimportant, insignificant things ever. And I keep not texting back. Because it is so unimportant.

And then I smile to myself, knowing that he’s like an addiction I just beat. I rehab’d myself.

Aah! I meant to tell ye, I’m going on a bit of a self-serving junket with Emmet, the artist friend/dealer, at the start of April. Basically the north of Ireland is controlled by the British government. So that means, say products can come from Tesco in the UK without having to be imported, because it’s the same country.

20 Marlboro Menthol are €8.20, as it stands. In the UK controlled north, their €4.72. The north is 2 hours(max.) on a bus.

Vodka is the same. The cheapest bottle of vodka here is about €15. If you want quality, your looking at double that. In the north, you can get a bottle of Smirnoff for, wait for it, €14.

2 hours on a bus, you say?

Who said this recession was all doom and gloom?

FUCK YOU

Sam here….

 

Fuck. You. This is an absolute fuck you to the people in this country who try make chaos mainstream.

Fuck you. This is a fuck you. So you kill 2 policemen as they collect a delivery of food, in a random attack. What did they do? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Fuck you. So you think your a splinter group of the militants that destroyed this country, and plunged its inhabitants into a violent and winless war. No. You are some little shit. A toerag. You are capable of nothing. The people see that you are trying to turn time back to when there was violence.

Fuck you. You will NOT succeed. No. Not in this day and age. We still are not sure of the way forward, and we have suffered in the past, but “in the land of the blind, the one eyed man is king”. We will be king again.

Fuck you. You kill and unarmed, plain clothed officer, while he sat in his car? The first killing of an officer since 2001. Fuck you. You are a coward. You killed him. How does his wife feel, that her husband was shot in the back of the head?

Fuck you. Everyone was working towards peace in Ireland. And you will not fucking stop us.

Fuck you. We will be a peaceful land. That is the ideal.

 

 

I should explain. Briefly, Ireland was ruled by England for a while, hundreds of years ago. But they kept the 6 northern counties. Today, the south is ruled by The free republic, while the 6 counties are under British rule. During the 60s, 70s, 80s and 90s. There was car bombs, killings, gang violence from both nationalists and unionists. There was unionists(wanted to be in the British union), and nationalists(wanted to be in the Irish nation). The 6 counties, nor the south were safe places to be. In 1998(a ceasefire was agreed, and political talks began. The violence stopped, and now we’re working towards peace through talks and political means.

Recent events have tried to de-rail the peace talks. These attacks are unjustified and unprovoked. News converge here:

Here for the 2 guys, Here for the policeman.

I Know It Wasn’t Asked Of Me, But….

1. Is there anyone of your friends that you would ever consider having sex with?

Eh, yeah! my friends are total rides, the lot of them! I think the question is, who wouldn’t I do! *coughricheycough*

2. Sex in the morning, afternoon or night?
I dunno. Because, they all have their benefits. I’d say afternoon, because it’s the middle of 2 extreme’s. And countdown isn’t worth watching any more!

3. What side of the bed do you sleep on?
the side nearest the door!

4. Have you ever taken your clothes off for money?
Em, no, but when i was straight I kissed a guy when my girlfriend paid him!

5. Have you ever had sex in the shower or the bath?
Not like, penetration, but I have done things in both a bath and shower, yes!

6. Do you watch/read pornography?
External hard drive says whaaa’!

7.Do you want someone aggressive or passive in bed?
Neither is good. A nice mix, but mainly passive! I like being in control!

8. Do you love someone on your blogroll?
I love many people on my blogroll, for many different reasons! Some like it hot, some like cinnamon bread….

 
9. Would you choose love or money?
Well now. Money would be horrendously useful in so many ways. But love gives endlessly. I’m tied.

10. Your top three favorite kinks in bed?
Being tied up, dirty talk, spooning….

11. Has anyone ever gone beyond your personal line of respect sexually?
Yes. And then he spent the night, while I lay, facing away from him, texting >:/

12. Where is the most romantic place you have had sex?
I’m not like, some mad park sex weirdo. But I suppose Jacks apartment.

13. Where is the weirdest place you have had sex?
Ah. The lift of the UGC cinema.

14. Have you ever been caught having sex?
Nope, never. Well once or twice by CCTV, but that’s about it!

15. Ever been to a bar just to get sex?
Never. I don’t go out looking for sex, it just seems to happen, with each and every sol/fosters/vodka&whatever/bulmers I consume.

16. Ever been picked up in a bar?
I’m no stranger to waking up in a strange mans apartment from time to time….

17. Have you ever kissed or had sex with someone of the opposite sex?
Aha! see, I changed the question! Yes, once or twice by accident. But I don’t find a loose bag of fish particularly appealing…

18. Had sex in a movie theater?
Nope, but it is on the list!

20. Had sex in a bathroom?
Not sex, but did many things with many people….

21. Have you ever had sex at work?
college? I don’t do ‘toil’. And yes :)

22. Bought something from an adult store?
Condoms, leather goods, lube, the usual muck!

23. Do you own any sex toys?
Does my whip count?

24. Does anyone have naughty pics of you or are you on film?
there’s a video of me on xtube….

25. Have you ever had sex with someone and called them the wrong name?
Yes, the next morning I went and saw the electricity bill on the fridge and I stuck his name in the drafts of my phone! i do it when I meet someone from now on!

26. Do you think oral sex constitutes as a form of intercourse?
No. If that was intercourse, it would be watering down the word!

27. What's your favorite sexual position?
em, on my side is nice, if you give a shit about the other person. Or on my back, legs in the air like I’m giving birth. But, ahem, I’m a top…total top….

28. What's your favorite sex act?
I looooooooove getting rimmed! And rimming!! Yes, oh god yes!

29. Have you ever had sex with more than one person at a time?
No! I’m no slut…

On Top Of All That

On top of being Being betrayed by my brother, being absolutely broke, having stress and exhaustion.

I got food poisoning.

Betrayal, Broke & About To Explode.

 

Sam here….

 

So after my fabulous evening of meaningless gay sex with the guy that I wanted to go away afterwards, also known as Dar. My ‘rents know.

Now. If you haven’t been reading for a long time, mother dearest isn’t the biggest fan of me throwing my generously sized tool into boys’ funboxes. Oh no sir. No indeed.

So they want to know, who why and when. Actually my mammy went to work after saying

Now we know you had someone home on Sunday night.(they were away at the time). Who was it? “

Like I’m going to turn around and say, ‘Oh, well if you want all the hot gossip, go to this site. It even has details!’

Eh, no.

But anyway, my dad has yet to return so then we get to have a wonderful, relationship-altering conversation all about who I threw it into on Sunday. Marvellous.

And my brother was the only person here on Sunday night. Guess who sold me out. Thanks, sibling.

I went to the doctor there a few days ago. I have stress and exhaustion. Fucking brilliant.

 

Oh, and I’m broke. You, darling readers, should know that I’m atrocious with money. Like absolutely brutal. I couldn’t hold onto a bag of pennies if they were glued to my face. So now, I have prescriptions, dinners, and family shit, all of which requires money, I do not have.

Why am I broke, I hear you ask? Well, due to the big dirty ‘R’, that we don’t like talking about, I can’t find employment. So I’m living off €360 a month.

This is broken down. €89 goes on transport, straight away. That leaves €271. Take €100 in savings and fee’s for college and that leaves €171. Now consider that Dublin in the 4th most expensive city in the world to live in.

So it’s the 6th of March and I currently have €23 to my name. 25 days to go, less than €1 a day. Great.

But I started carrying my camera around with me, and being all arty like a total cunt, I took looooooooooads of pictures.

And looking back, I’ve seen them 1,000,000 times before. I need something fresh. But I’m going to post them anyway.

See?

One Night In Dar

Sam here….

 

So last night. I went to a bar down a lane. With Dar. Then brought him home with me.

And threw it in him.

Classy, right?

 

Yeah, yesterday, I wanted to go out for a lovely cold pint or two, so I just began to see who was about. Dar was on MSN, and wanted to head out too. So we met in Duck Lane Alley, this pop art bar hidden away. It was very funky with hot straight boys, watery pints and David Bowie remixes.

So basically we both missed last bus, and I offered him to come home back to mine.

So we get back to mine. And I fuck him. I fuck him hard. He was in pain, I was in pleasure. And I didn’t give a fuck. Fuck him.

Then I fell asleep. Fuck ‘em. I threw him out this morning at like 7:30 and had breakfast.

Oh well. I don’t regret it, but I’m not happy about it either.

And looking back and laughing at how much of a bitch I was, I remember lying in bed, and pretending to be asleep so he wouldn’t talk to me…..

I’ve been looking at Catlow365 as lot recently. He’s the new guy on my reading list, but his photographs every day inspire me to take more photos. But I’m shit at this, because I never remember my camera (a shameful 7.2 megapixels) so I’m using a Nokia 2megapixel fixed focus monstrosity. So quality is a bit of an issue.

But here I go

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pride

Sam here….

 

The word Pride makes me want to say ‘In the naaaaaaaaaaaaaame of looooooove, one mooooooore in the naaaaaaaaaaame of looooooooooove’, but that would require me to push screwdrivers into my ears until all the pesky noise goes away. I fucking hate U2 with a passion.

But yes, pride.

Us guys ruined that word basically, because all I can think of is that damn parade. It’s a glorified walk to the pub if you ask me!

I’m fucking proud. Now, of what, you may ask?

Well I’ve made it this far. At age 16, I stopped listening to my parents, and began to grow into who I wanted to be. Like I fucking grew a pair and manned up.

I wore my jeans around my arse. She hated the look. I listened to fall out boy. She thought loud music was bad for me. I spent my days lying in city centre parks laughing at nothing. She wanted me to take responsibility.

But fuck it. I am enjoying my youth, and I would not change a thing. Not one. And do you know why? Because it feels like I earned who I am.

And my sexuality. I came out, not an easy thing to do, by everyone's accounts. But I did it. And I listened to her hushed tones of ‘how do you know’, ‘don’t sleep with anyone’, ‘it’s just a phase’. I sat, and listened through gritted teeth to ALL  of her attempted to cram me back into the Catholic closet. What will the neighbours think?

Couldn’t give a fuck, because I learnt that there are two ways to life. And I feel I picked the right one. I have yet to regret the decision I have made.

And NOTHING could make me prouder of myself.