Well, here we go with some more observations.
List time!
-The Titanic was built here. And there’s a Titanic museum. With an interactive exhibit. Where you get to freeze to death 🙂
-When you go to restaurants, or coffeeshops, they ask if you want it to “sit-in” or “take-away.” What the fuck is sit-in? And why does it cost an extra 0.50 cents more than take-away?
-Belfast native: the guy that wrote Gulliver’s Travels (Jonathan Swift)
-You know, for all the things they say about the Irish being colossal drunks, they are… not that drunk as you’d expect? And the bars all close at like 11 or 12 at night. I think that’s what contributes to their sloppy drunk-ass delinquents image when they go abroad: they’re not used to bars being open later
-Led Zepplin debuted their song “Stairway to Heaven” here, in Belfast
-There was a period, starting in the late 60’s and lasting 30 years, referred to as “The Troubles,” where people were getting shot and blown-up all over the place. No, don’t even ask, I don’t know why this all took place, or who was fighting who, but I can assure you I won’t investigate any further on the matter
-I’ve seen the word “Ulster” scattered all over town. What the fuck is that? Is that a place? A political movement? Um?
-I’ve also seen two different guys here with face tattoos. Not just a little bitchass teardrop under the eye either—one guy had what looked like a fucking knife scar running through the middle of the eye, but made of ink. I made sure not to ask that guy for directions to the optometrist
-Did I already mention the redheads? Or did I include that in my Dublin report? Well, fuck the redheads—the BLONDES here! They’re everywhere. And it’s a certain kind of blonde, like a platinum blonde, a super shiny white blonde. With dark black roots. Does that mean they’re all dying their hair here?
-Here’s what the Northern Ireland accent sounds like: See ya SEWW-n! (See you soon) Shudda jest steyyed aht tha jale-hauss! (Should of just stayed at the jail house)
-Parts of the city… the Victorian district especially—feel SO MUCH like Dublin. Other parts feel more like England, like the UK—which of course, it is. Those old school telephone booths, the sandstone towers with spires and giant clocks that pay ode to London’s Big Ben
-The weather sucks donkey dick. DONKEY DICK! It is either blowing wind, rustling your shit up, or pouring rain, or BOTH: hitting you from angles, and getting moisture under your hood, in between any and exposed skin. It sucks. Fuck this weather. I’ll take snow over this anytime
… And that’s Belfast! New country tomorrow!
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