Dream Week in Dublin

I cannot express to all of my one readers how awesome this week turned out to be. Initially it meant to be just a stop-over week before we headed to Italy, but so many things had gone wrong in our trip, lady luck finally smiled.

The Irish love their poles (not just the eastern Euro's)

For our first night we stayed at some shitty hostel, where we met a french chef and some dweeby american who had done way too many drugs in his so far short life. Dublin was friggin cold. We met up with Toff and Tam (who BTW are now ENGAGED!), who subsequently informed us that international rules were on, but tickets had already sold out. DOH says we. Deciding 'what they hey' we decided to ask anyway. Fortunately for us, ticketmaster had just released a whole bath of new tickets, and the were probably the best seats in the house! So made a day of the International rules, in which we hammered Ireland so hard, they have subsequently decided to cancel next years match because they were too humiliated. That plus at one stage there were 5 fights on at the same time, one of which began before the first whistle.

Pre-game Fosters drinking sesh

Ol Croke Park, where the bloody English rolled in some tanks and blew away the keeper

The score Ireland 30... Australia 69!!! Yeah!

In a sea of Irish, we were the only happy ones.

Then, came my biggest night! The MUSE concert. If you know anything about me, you must know that I am semi-obsessed by these guys, followed them from a wee tiny band to the massive super-stars that they are now. Liked their old stuff better than there new stuff. Anyway headed to the Point Theatre on 3rd of November with Barbs, the alpha feMale. Originally in the seating area (which was shit) I bolted into the mosh. but they have this new 2 barrier thing, which sucks balls cos then you can get any closer. Surounded by teeny boppers jumping into my chin and a fucking tall idiot who didnt know how to control his elbows. Still great gig. Dom came out of a satellite and matt had all these fusckin wicked new Manson G-tars. Must make myself one, one day.

Matt with his M1D1, kaos pad included.

The Mirror Manson, fingerprints and all, not sure about the 'band aid'

After the first night we stayed with ToffTam, who live with some stoners that like to dutch oven. Toff took us ona little tour de Dublaine. This included some momuments, an old ha' penny bridge and the Jameson factoy.... new convert of the triple distilled and non smokey whiskey.

Our first Irish coffee, at the factory. SO good! Made the tour a lot more interesting too.

Toff's fave spot, which has a tribute to the potato faminers, which was a whole lot more than 40 hours. This is us feigning starvation, we look so pained. We didn't even have a potato!

A tribute to my new awesome sunnies.

And what would a trip to Dubbers be without a visit to the guiness factory? They have an awesome sky bar which overlooks the whole city and has Guiness direct from the brewery. Probably the nicest pint, mother's mik. Remember the epi-centre? It's so true.

GuinI!

At the Epicentre

Nothing like a brew and some Guiness & beef stew

Their famous campaigns, where if you drink Guiness, you can lift iron girders, or be a seal.

Another famous sighting, we had dinner with mates of ToffTam and guess who was sitting at the next table? Blair (from Big Brother and more recently neighbours), also tagging along was that blond guy that does big brother up late. Tam went and hugged him (Blair). Whatever... Later that night I had an interesting experience in one of the club toilets. Please refer to the Ode to Toilet post.

But that wasn't it for the concerts. We somehow discovered that Wolfmother was playing at the Olympic. Again however, tickets were all sold out. On the night, I just said fuck it, lets chance and just go, maybe we could scalp. To our luck we took the hair off some local's head and got 2 prime tickets for a little more than the base price. Wicked concert, these guys are really worth seeing.

Wolf mother, bringing the SG special back

But that wasn't it for Wolf mother. We even met them at the airport on the way to Italy, told them they played a great gig and was too embarrassed to get a photo. Wolfmother fly Ryan Air.