My Blind Date

Hey guys, so yesterday was a fun day for me, a friend set me up on a blind date, usually I can’t be bothered with blind dates as the only women who go on blind dates are boring as fuck, dried up old prunes, who lead lives less interesting than that of my last bowel movement.

My fear of blind dates comes mostly from experience, last year a friend had set me up with a girl he knew, just out of interest I decided to go. Anyway, he gave me her number, I called her, we chatted, and eventually we decided to meet by City Hall. When I got there, I sat on a bench and proceeded to text my blind date, I wrote the words, “I’m here, sitting beside some fat chick, hope to see you soon,” needless to say the phone I just texted belonged to the fat chick… I’ll let you guess what happened next. Incase you can’t guess, here’s a clue: HULK ANGRY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

However I owed this friend a favour so I went for him and I have to say, blind dates rock. You can stare at their tits all night long, pour salt on the table and tell them it’s braille and you can have a hell of a lot of fun directing them into the kitchen instead of the bathroom… I did that three times.

The third time all I heard from the kitchen were the words “Oh, for fuck sake! Not again!”

The night went pretty well despite my picking on her, I ended up back at hers, we spent the night together and I left in the morning…

I don’t think she’ll call me back though… Mostly because while she slept I moved her furniture around and put her phone in the kitchen sink…

I wonder how long it will take her to realise?

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Bending To The Beats… (This title will be 300% funnier when you finish reading this blog.)

So my friend’s handicapped brother, let’s call him, Jack, decided he can live a normal life just like the rest of us… Making a decision like that as a handicapped person usually is quite a proud and momentous occasion for handicapped people, often it marks the end of being cared for and looked after the beginning of their own attempt or success in the field of self-sufficiency…

Now, call me cruel if you will, but I just thought it was a good excuse to get him wasted off his tits and leave him in the middle of nowhere for the lulz.

So we take him out to this club, Thompsons it’s called, a nice enough club, if you like E-heads rubbing their faces against your 100% cotton jumper for three hours. Cotton jumpers are like E-head magnets, I had like 6 of them rubbing my jumper at one point. I think one of them actually followed me home… Which is slightly worrying.

Anyway, we took our handicapped friend to a club and fed him full of Es…  And I have to tell you ladies and gentlemen… You have not seen funny untill you’ve witnessed the hilarious vision of a man with cystic fibrosis raving and dancing to pounding, pounding techno beats. I dare say it is the funniest imagery I have ever been witness to. Incase you’ve never seen a man with cystic fibrosis, off his tits on Es, dancing to techno, it looks a little like I imagine the Stretch Armstrong toy would look if you melted his arms and legs then threw him down the stairs.

Many hours later when he’d had his fill of being the only man on the dance floor, very much like a dancing version of the elephant man, he decided he wanted to go home. He was pretty off it, so we put him in a taxi and sent the taxi to Dublin…

We haven’t heard from him since… Hope he doesn’t have to walk home, I can’t imagine he’ll get too far with his legs, probably be better off walking home on his hands…

I wonder if he still thinks he can lead a normal life… I don’t think witnessing a man with cystic fibrosis walking over 60 miles on his hands is normal… Then again if he does it we may well have accidentally created the ultimate endurance sport…

…All jokes aside, if you do see a man with cystic fibrosis walking towards Belfast from Dublin do be a nice chap and pick him up, as we may or may not have sent him down there with no money… Or clothes.

Published in: on 26/11/2009 at 4:38 pm  Comments (1)  
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