People, I have been to the second (though I am biased) best country on the planet, and it is Ireland. The few days that I had spent there and the scant hours I remember of it are fantastic. In fact, I enjoyed it so much that I have even considered living there in the future when I become a mental adult, as opposed to the legal adult status I’ve obtained by age. Today I’ll be talking about some of the facts I’ve learned about Ireland and some stories from my time there. So without further ado, let’s get down to some Phlogging, bitches.

I’ll be honest, I’ve had an incredibly hard time writing this blog. You’d think that a vacation to a place this amazing would be ripe for parody, but it’s really fucking hard. After several writing sessions of me coming up with god-awful jokes, I’ve come to realize why I’ve been having so much trouble, the Irish are people who have been shit on their entire life.

I’m not saying it’s a country full of misery and misfortune, they just can’t catch a break. Their history is riddled with cock-punches from the British and dick-slappings from their own people. It’s amazing how many children they have considering all of this genital abuse going on.

Yet, what makes the Irish so damn IRISH is the fact that they just want to be…Irish. Everywhere you go you here folk songs, every pub you go to is full of people drinking Guiness, and every old man wears caddie hats and vests. It’s brilliant. Don’t get me wrong, I really like Norway, but I’ve seen a lot of Norwegians trying to act American, but not in a good way. I’ve seen girls wearing fucking sweat pants with writing on the ass, people wearing those big doofey old lady sun glasses, and committing one of my biggest pet peeves, wearing baseball hats with the stickers on them. They’ve never even heard of the sport’s team that they’re wearing the hat of, they just know people wear it in America. I didn’t see that in Ireland, and I respect the hell out of them for that.

Let me give you this to contemplate. Ireland is the only place I have been to where there is a statue for a whore. I present to you Molly Malone.

Molly Malone, as the legend goes, was a fish monger who would sell fish during the day, and her body during the night. She didn’t do anything special. The only reason people know about her is because there is a famous Irish song about her. Think about it, the city of Dublin actually wanted and paid for a someone to sculpt them titties. Those titties are a point of pride for that nation, and how can they not be? Just look at them!

The Irish even justify the titties! When the statue was made in 1987, when they chose the design of her dress they said, “women breastfed publicly in Molly’s time, breasts were popped out all over the place.” That’s a quote from the Irish Times! Do you know how much I wish I could make the statement, “breasts were popped out all over the place?”

Most of the time I was in Ireland, I was in Dublin. Dublin is a unique city because of how completely unimpressive it looks. When you go to New York for the first time you’re blown away by the size of the buildings. When you go to Paris for the first time you’re amazed by the monuments and architecture. When you go to Pittsburgh for the first time you’re amazed by how low the suicide rate is. As far as pretty goes, Dublin’s a little fuggly. The parks are pretty meh, the buildings look a lot a like and have been worn with age, and the famous buildings have been designed off of more famous buildings from other countries. The city had a little bit of an inferiority complex about it in the past. Take a look at the windows in this picture.

If you noticed, the windows get smaller the higher you go up. This is meant to give the illusion of height. When these houses were built, the Irish wanted Dublin to look like a major city, but restrictions imposed by the British made this impossible. So to counter this, they tried to use an optical illusion. Eventually, they realized that what made Ireland Ireland, and what made Dublin Dublin, were the people and the culture of the country, and it’s because of this that Ireland is as engrossing and entrancing at Molly Malone’s titties.

Sorry about standing on the soapbox, I just needed to get that out there. As a show of good faith for your continued reading, I’ll try to be funnier.

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