A week ago I was in Ireland kissing random Americans and Irish girls. Now I’m back at work, in London, and all I can think about is the good times I had on the Emerald Isle.
Today has been particularly boring. Life in Leicester Square just isn’t as exciting as it was when our office was on Oxford Street. My boss always jokes and says that working on Oxford Street was like being in the opening credits of Sex and the City. Considering he hasn’t got a TV and is a bit of a knob – it’s probably nothing like that.
Having said that there were always tonnes of gorgeous women walking up and down generally trying to look more stunning with a new outfit or two. I used to love it even if it was a little depressing knowing that I’m never going to have sex with any of them. Girls I tend to sleep with don’t seem to look like the fashion vistas found in the boutiques and fashion stores of Oxford Street. Especially when I wake up the next morning … then they just look like someone I’d rather not see again.
But I’m getting off track. Back to Ireland.
Ireland was a mixture of chasing girls, drinking guinness (what else?), misbehaving and checking out the sights. I ended up kissing 3 girls in the 7 days I was there … and only slept with 1. 1 girl was American and she lived in a small but “filled to the brim with hot women” town called Galway. The second girl was another American and she was stunning … when she kept quiet. She was possibly the most annoying person I’ve met in a long time but her legs were long, her face gorgeous and her body generally stunning. She’s the one I slept with – score! And the last night I kissed an Irish teacher. She was generally a little nuts so I went spend too much time on her.
I had a great time and, like most holidays, I wish I was still there. Post holiday blues haven’t been that bad although I’m sure I wouldn’t have had any if the hot American was sleeping in my bed right now. Here’s to the next holiday.
Around Town 