Well, things are going well. I’m still kicking myself for not studying abroad, my heart is still overseas buried under a plate of pasta.
Have you ever wanted something so badly that you could almost taste it? It’s like dieting and watching someone eat a piece of cake that you wish you could have. You tell yourself No and walk away and grab a carrot, full of vitamins and other nutrients. Fuck the God damn carrot. Then you run to the cupboard and start eating Duncan Hines right out of the box. You end up getting sick and throwing it up in the middle of the night. Don’t batter yourself.
So I bought a plane ticket, and will be visiting my bestie Rose in England, and hopefully meeting up in France with Gabby for a Petit luncheon and bungee jumping off of the Eiffel tower. Then, we go and see the fashionable people down the Diva Alley and make fun of the dresses that when wearing, it’s impossible to sit down. That’s why the French like to takes their clothes off. Convenience.
Then, hopefully we will head back to England and see Big Ben. Why does the biggest monument in London have a title that can easily serve as the name for a male dancer? I don’t know. I also don’t know why they pronounce “aluminum” the way they do. Or everything has to be proper, not right. Aren’t they interchangeable? Am I proper or have I taken a folly? Bloody hell.
Oh Lord. Next, it’s off to the Royal Palace! We’ll take a tour of the palace and Rose and I break into the Queen’s private quarters. We will play chess with Prince Harry, and Rose will have me distract him while she goes looking for Prince William. I get nervous when after an hour, she doesn’t return, so Harry and I go looking for her. Harry heads down the corridor to find her, and I spot Prince Charles running down the hall followed by Camille chasing him with a toilet wand, yelling him that Prince Albert is more dependable than he is. I find the nearest door and go through it to escape her wrath. I turn around and find my self looking at the Queen of England sitting on the throne. I snap my picture and run. I find Rose outside the palace on Prince Harry’s arm waiting for me. The three of us charter a Private Royal Jet and grab dinner in Italy, where we are joined by Gabriella, and we inform Prince Harry about life in American college. He enjoys our company and flies us all back to England.
Gabriella stays the night with us.
In the early morning, the three of us board a ferry over to Ireland. We arrive and are greeted by sheep and greenery. We drink our breakfast and head into the city. We end up taking the wrong bus and head into the countryside.
We then find ourselves waiting at a bus stop for the next bus that will take us into the city. The porter tells us it will be here in an hour. So, the three of us take a quick stroll into the field and go over a hill. We enter a winter wonderland of sheep. Now was the time to see if the paralytic sheep myth was true. Three people versus a field of 1,000 sheep. Done.
After spending an hour’s worth of bonding time with mutton, we head into the city and grab an early dinner. We purposefully eat nothing so our lack of liquids are at an all-time great and we find the nearest Pub. There is one on either side of the eatery.
Three hours pass.
We end up setting a bar record and begin a rousing chorus of “99 Bottles of Beer”, and only make it to 87. We are then escorted back to England by some friends we met at the bar, and wake up in our hotel, wondering what in hell happened.
The only clue we had was a pocket full of wool, a bus number, and a bar tab of $973.63. We conclude that we hijacked a bus full of sheep and treated them to a hearty supply of Guinness.
November 19th, 2010 – England, Here I Come!