Black British Bird in Ireland: An Observation


So I’ve been living in Dublin for a few months now and so far… so very good. What with being used to the mean streets of London… and the equally shocking cobbled streets and unnecessary round-a-bouts of Buckinghamshire… Ireland has switched it up in spectacular fashion! People actually smile here… I know right! And strangers talk to you in the streets without wanting to stab you coz they fancied going looting that day or because you didn’t wanna buy the fucking Big Issue. Ok granted I am looking at it through eyes of a newbie tourist and slightly romanticising the country no doubt… but stay with me... there maybe a point to this. (pretty sure there isn't though)

But I digress… through the magic of leprechauns and cherub faces of gypsy kids I have painted… there are a few things that I have noticed amongst my Irish friends and their culture in general which quite frankly makes no fucking sense or amuses me somewhat. I would like to address this… now.

One – Girls and fake tan.

Yes it’s true… Irish girls LOVE some deep mahogany tan action! Even the knackers (slang for pikey ho bags!) who can be found in the €2 Shop on a weekday are tanned to the max-treme. The ladies of Dublin whom I have observed/perved outrageously over definitely like to look good… and if this means looking like a mixed race refugee… then so be it.

Two – Nonsensical use of words and phrases.

Irish people use words which make no fecking sense… at all like. They will often add words like ‘so’ and ‘what’ at the end of perfectly formed sentences as way of emphasis. They also use words we use in the UK but in a totally different context, for example ‘smashed’ would tend to mean drunk ‘I was so smashed last night I ended up sleeping with a man’ BUT no… ‘smashed’ over here means ‘broke.’ It’s like they’re rebelling against the English language (which in fairness they have every right to do!) so they just mash-up words to suit themselves. And don’t get me started on the phrases they use… if anyone can figure out what the bastard hell this means… “Get outta that Garden”  I will give you nothing but sexy times/high five. One of the main phrases of greetings in Ireland is ‘What’s the story’ which loosely translated means ‘hi’. Now this is apparently rhetorical (even though it’s a clear fecking question!!)… like nobody is expecting you to literally tell you their life story. However the first time a shop keeper said this to me I launched into how my day was going just for him to stare blankly at me willing me to shut the fuck up with a wide eyed ‘you’re a foreign arsehole’ expression.

Three- Passion for their country and culture.

Now back in the UK if you were seen to be wearing an England shirt with the Union Jack draped over you chanting “In-ger-land… In-ger-land!” you would be labelled a thug and racist. But in Ireland if you don’t embrace your culture and everything Irish… then you should be ashamed of yourself. My first experience of this was drinking in a pub one night… some random band was playing and then in kicked the national anthem where everyone automatically without prompting (and with great drunken skill) stood up and started patriotically belting out the anthem. What the hell just happened?! And pretty sure this doesn’t sound like Bon Jovi.

Four – Weddings (but no funerals. Laugh… it’s funny!)

I’ve been in the country for 21 seconds and I’m already going to 3 weddings which of course is super duper fly. However… It was only after having a conversation with my lovely friend who is getting married soon that I realised how the honour of being invited to weddings also directly translates to how I’m actually gonna be bankrupt! You see back home just showing your face and the petrol money you spent to get to the damn venue is perfectly acceptable as a wedding gift… but in the land of Ireland… each person is supposed to front up cold hard cash! And not just a tenner… oh no no my fine friends… But if you are a good friend of the bride and or groom then nothing less than 100 quid is acceptable!! Yes you read that shit right! And if you don’t deposit your entire savings into the money grabbing hands of the happy couple… then believe when I say that your ass will be judged. So for this reason alone… I’m getting married in Ireland. So don’t bother turning up if you haven’t fat the card with notes… and diamonds.

Five – Drinking.

The Irish are notorious for being massive piss heads and it is not a myth but the truth and nothing but the truth so help me God. Like seriously… help me God…  coz my liver has been riddled with poison since living here. Irish boys and girls can be found most nights locked (also slang for being hideously drunk) Drinking is just on another level which I have never experienced before. You are mocked and ridiculed if you do not have a drink in your hand at all times. I remember having a text conversation with one of my friends which went a little something like this:

Me: Hi what you up to?

Irish Bird: Just having a drink but only 1 as I’m tired and taking it easy tonight.

(Next Morning)

Me: (Insert boring ass conversation starter here)

Irish Bird: I got in at 5am… we had a lock in. Ooops.

You see... them be the rules. And they’re mad about singing/screaming random Irish songs (sometimes rebel songs about how much they hate the English!) at 4 in the morning! Now I like shouting out Whitney and a bit of Glee at stupid o’clock in the AM… but being shit faced and trying to replicate moves from Riverdance to some cute Irish ditty is a whole new experience.

Yep. Irish folk are mental… but I do fancy them a little.

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