Remind me never to fly trans-Atlantic ever AGAIN. Ugh, ew. Not only did the flight take a GAZILLION hours but they were out of mint for my mojito. I was tempted to lock the stewardess…oh wait FLIGHT ATTENDANT in the bathroom and slowcook her for 45 minutes. No mint for my mojito? AS IF. So I settled for an apple juice. They didn’t put ice in it. Isn’t that their JOB? So, at that point my rage was so totally off the charts and I ended up nearly taking down the place in a four minute temper tantrum. I got ice alright…and a lot of angry people with pacemakers.
We get there and I swore they said Ireland was the EMERALD ISLE. Emerald is green, right? Well this place was dirty and smelled like someone died in a port o’potty filled with fishheads. NOT that I know what that smells like but ew it was reminiscent of this time in the 4th grade…Oh look I’m being nostalgic!
There was this boy named Thomas Tucker and he wanted to kiss me behind the jungle gym. He used to pee his pants which was fifteen shades of nasty. That and his Mom always packed him tuna fish sandwiches which he would carry around in his pocket and then eat during the daily geography lesson… GRODY! He thought he could get a kiss from me? HELL NO. So I agreed to meet him behind the jungle gym and juiced him back to the first grade. He told my teacher I “shocked” him. Needless to say he never bugged me for a kiss again. Yes, the docks smelled like Thomas Tucker.
So I keep thinking…I’m here on a mission and I don’t care how many leprechauns I gotta deep fry to get my deed done! Seems as if the death toll would be high since the catcalls were endless as I walked the docks for an unsuspecting victim…er, assailant? Yeah, someone to help me find this guy….
So, one of the leprechauns got frisky and grabbed my “biscuits” as he put it. I’m not that kind of a girl. (Sidenote: unless you are a greased up Italian nurse with a thing for unibrows or perhaps a skeezy politician relative of said greased up nurse) I told him I hoped he liked his biscuits fried and sent him packing. Okay, so I didn’t send him PACKING. I more so toasted him, skipped around his steaming carcass, spit out my gum at him and then took a picture on my cell phone. Hey, I needed vacation memories, alright?
“Hello love, what can I do ya for?”
Love? Oh please. Just when I was about to turn around and electrify another scumbag, I decided I COULD use him for information. THEN I’d deep fry him, lay him near the other charred chump, dance, spit out my gum and take ANOTHER picture. I have this pretty pink princess scrapbook, and I fill it with all my “vacation” pictures. I put heart stickers, and sparkly stars and…
Oh! So the drunken leprechaun was staring at my “taters” as he mumbled and I’m this close to playing “what happens when you stick a fork in a power outlet?”… when he gives me some answers. I could hardly understand him. He sounded like he had marbles in his mouth. So I get the details, something about a bar and I’m on my way after he hit on me…I think he was hitting on me. I don’t speak leprechaun. So I end up at the bar with water in my shoes (super duper uncomfortable for me) and all I wanted was a freaking mojito. They have no idea what mojitos are there. Whatev. Some bar that was! It smelled better in there at least.
So. Large guy with a bad accent told me he doesn’t know what the heck I’m talking about, he looked at me like I’m just some cute blonde he could fool over. AS IF. Go find yourself a rainbow and a pot of gold buddy cuz you’ll be in need of luck or whatev. ANYWAY.
He apologized for not being able to help me more….and I knew he was full of it.
Needless to say, he’s now a charred reminder of what happens when you lie to me. He could have had all the beer and potatoes he wanted had he have given the location of the disturbingly attractive emo kid.
Oh crud! Daddy’s calling. I’m sure I’m about to be lectured. Guess this means I’m stuck on another four hundred and forty six hour flight back home. I’m not one to give up. I’m pretty darn determined! So, Daddy can think my flight is delayed while I search the sights and find Petrelli. Come out, come out wherever you are! Anyone know of something fun to do in Ireland? Besides splashing around in puddles…water and I don’t really get along too well.
I’m sorry to inform you, I am the only remaining Petrelli. *sniff*
I am available this evening if you would like to drop by and comfort me. I just happen to have a little ‘oil’ at Peter’s apartment, which is where you can find me… hint, hint.
Elle, Love your 1st official blog. Can’t wait to see you again, my lovely BFF. Tat sis TG
this is awesome I can’t wait for more!
You really think it was the flight attendant’s fault that they were out of mint?
I don’t know who your daddy is, but if it were me, you’d follow the rules young lady!
Young woman, I truly hope your father isn’t my husband.
If I ever find out Nathan has any children not be me-there will
be big trouble!
Hey Elle!!!
How is the shopping there?