A break for the border

Pah!
Hey all. So the inevitable slide into hedonism has begun in earnest. I've started smoking again, yes yes, boo hiss, I know, but living in a house with four other smokers meant I had two choices: continue bumming smokes off them when my pallid will broke, or take up the habit again. Since I'm already bumming room and board, I felt that smokes would be a(nother) liberty. Anyways, the theory went that I would smoke like a fucker for a weekend, remind myself why I quit in the first place and quit on monday. There was an obvious flaw in this plan, I'll let you guys figure it for yourselves.
Next on my list was gambling, although this is dangerous too. See, we have a good laff here at mo towers round the poker table, and in theory it only costs 5euro to get a chair. Playing against (comparatively) rich boys though, means that they can keep buying back when they get knocked out until eventually they hit some cards and clean me out. This, I need hardly tell you, has nothing at all to do with the fact that I am a crummy gambler who couldn't calculate a single odd, never mind hundreds simultaneously (I'm looking at you, Biggar). Still, several years of watching late night poker has at least acquainted me with the lingo and it's nice to get to use it from time to time. (o my god! he's sitting on a pair of cowboys!)
Drugs, I've thankfully bypassed, though I had an amusing brush with vice when Sunny (housemate#2) discovered to his horror that the flat his parents rent out in temple bar (which he is supposed to be 'looking after') was, in fact, being used as a brothel. (Gary: A brothel?! And you had a key all along?!)

Heh.

It's poker night on location in an ex-brothel tomorrow. It's pretty wild in old Dublin town, I tell ya.
We actually were in temple bar the other night, as it happens, more by accident than design, and after a hilariously bad night in the hub, we spilled out onto the streets to the sound of hippies playing drums. Then the guards showed up and spoiled everyone's fun, but the hippies, ingeniously, lost those suckers by going around the corner, and carried on playing. Half an hour of drunken jumping and clapping strangers on the shoulder later, those crafty guards picked up the trail once more and put paid to the party with two van loads of their mates. I would say 'bastards' here, but as ronan rightly pointed out, it was 5 in the morning and not everyone loves pissed crusties. Strange but true.

Work in UCD is insanely demanding, a fact exacerbated by me being 'new guy' which I hate. Still, there is something nice about being back on a college campus, surrounded by loud, self absorbed tossers and tossettes. Takes me right back. I wish they'd stop coming to me with their problems, though. As if I give two jerks of a dead dog’s dick whether they need evidence that they've passed their silly-assed Hdip.

Better go now, there's a really good ad for 'Stealth' on.

Aido 'Big Slick' Potato.

*********EXTRA***********
Aido potato's potato of the month: The wexford pink.