Homeric

Saturday 30th July 2005

What a random day with June. Buses around the city, guys with see-through eyes, Pyjamaland, sitting in Croke Park like a fool, being chatted up by an Indian guy in an Asian food store, visiting the Chester Beatty museum, loving the bookbinding, wanting to be a bookbinder, feeling all cultural, getting on a bus with only one bus fare, having to get off again, getting on another bus, finding a new art gallery, talking to the artist, he recognised me from somewhere, i loved the evil pigs with bloody bicycle spokes, going on a pub crawl, drinking red and white lemonade alternately, my feet aching, meeting my cousins in one pub, meeting an older friend in another, sitting in front of a dry ice machine, choking on said dry ice, listening to a band playing every song using the the same three chords, going into a nightclub full off horrid music and flouescent lights, getting drowned by a bouncer, getting a minibus home with a bunch of mad drunks, June announcing to entire bus that I didn't drink or smoke, some girl down the back repeatedly asking what homoerotic meant.

Finally, got home and into bed.

My very own Bloomsday.