The luck or the unluck of the Irish

It’s clear that this trip my ideal holiday romance fantasy didn’t occur, but looking back on the time seeming my trip is coming to an end, it is clear what sort of boy has tickled my fancy.

The winner: The Irish. I don’t know if it’s their curly hair aka Bilbo Baggins, or their humour aka prague pub crawl guy, or just cause their a friend. But certainly it is the accent except for my friend he only gets to be Irish because his family is from Ireland. But you get talking to me in that Irish accent and bam I’m putty in their hands, plus I’ll probably make fun of them and make them say potatoes or call them Bilbo Baggins or say that they are leprechauns. But my time with the Irish have been fun times. Bilbo Baggins because he was my pub tour guide person, I feel that’s a bit of an achievement, my regret is not going home with him but that was probably a wise choice any way.

My friend, it was just a drunken hook up and snuggle at mine and my travel buddys house party. Just a bit of fun.Like I said he only gets counted by default because of heritage.

Pub crawl guy in Prague was chivalrous and offered me a seat, I declined, then found out he was irish and started making fun of his accent, and talking about leprechauns. We hooked up at the next bar after I made fun of him again for drinking a vodka raspberry.  Why would a guy drink a vodka raspberry, I do not know, but in my rule book that is only for private time or if out in public you disguise it with coke and drink a manly spirit like whisky something I wouldnt like but you could score extra points on the machoness.

 

Spot number 2 was the English, the ones who  bought me down with truthfullness and fucking over but oh well.

 

Anyway when I get home, my mission will be to find an irishman who can swoon me with his accent or at least I can only dream right?

 

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