S is for SaturGays

Me – Why is my cider green?

Matt – The cup is green.

Me – Yeah…. I wanna…..

Matt- It’s just reflecting the colour of the cup, Shane. Come on.

Me – Did you ….. have you….. green in…. have you put grass into my cup?

Matt – No. Come on, I want a more cider.

Earlier that day

Me – Has anyone seen David and Sean?

Sean – I’m Sean, Shane.

Me – Ah yes. Yes.

Sean – David is in the lesbian lion-dancing tent.

Me – Oh lovely. What is he doing there……wait… I got it. Pretty self explanatory.

Sean – I’m gonna go to the “”Could you adopt a child” stand.” Want to come?

Me – Nah. It will just depress me. I don’t think I could.

Sean- See you in a bit.

Me – Bye.

Sean – You gonna just hang out here?

Me – Sure

Sean – Really ?

Me – I don’t really fit in here do I?

He doesn’t answer but just smiles and walks off. I notice that I am the only one dancing to a techno remix of Britney Spears, Till the World Ends, with my t-shirt still on. This was the muscle man tent. Part of me thought I should just take it off, it was very hot and the more you drink, the less insecure you feel. Luckily I decided to refrain from it.

Living in Naples for two months, has left me with many beautiful pictures, beautiful memories and beautiful new friends. However due to the close proximity of amazing, cheap pizza and Mario ( the old Italian man, selling wine in his tiny shop), Naples has also left me with two massive, not so beautiful titties and a big ass beer belly.

Upon returning from Naples

Mother – Oh dear. I thought it was my daughter that had a baby but it looks like you had one too.

Me – Feck off. This is temporary.


Sadly, it may not be temporary. I returned to Ireland in April, spent three months there and as I’m writing this I’m stuffing my gob with spinach for breakfast in a vegan cafe by the Thames in London. Hang on……… let me just………. yeah titties and belly, still there. It’s finally happened. I got fat. I think if I stood nearer the river in an orange jacket people might think I’m one of these buoys and use me as some kind of flotation device.


Sister – “Why don’t you exercise or eat healthier?”

Me – Why don’t you fuck off.


Meanwhile back in Brighton Pride 2016….

Hot man – You have beautiful eyes

Me – Yeah but I’m very wobbly underneath this t-shirt.


I proceed to jump up and down and point to the fact that my nipples are bouncing. Why Shane? Why must you immediately point your fatness, the moment some hot person compliments you? He smiles and walks away. There goes the love of my life. It wouldn’t have worked out anyway. We probably wouldn’t be able to decide baby names. We all want to date someone hot, but when the other person is so hot, the only thought that goes through my head is “everyone is gonna think he is your carer”

Hot Man 2 – Oh my god, I love this song.

Me – Who is it.

Hot Man 2 – I don’t know. Never heard it before.

Me – Oh great.


This was the type of chat that was to be found in the techno tent (unquestionably, the least gay of all the gay pride tents).

Hot Man 3 – Do you have any drugs?

Me – No. Sorry

Hot Man 3 – Do you know where I can get some?


What am I? Tourist information


Shane – No.

Hot Man 3 – Ask your friend.

Shane – You ask him, ya prick.


I walk away, stressed. People off their tits are so bloody needy sometimes.


Random friend of a friend in a speedo – “Can you come with me to the toolkit?

Shane – Toilet?

Random friend of a friend in a speedo – That’s what I said.

Shane – I would if I could but I can’t……. Because I don’t want to.


Many writers over the years have attempted to describe how being absolutely wasted feels. Throughout time and all over the world people have tried to make sense of the mental state when nothing makes sense. A bit like butter melting. You come out of the fridge as solid as a rock but over time, you’re just gonna end up dripping all over the place like a feckin idiot. I can’t do the feeling justice. I don’t think I’m that good at writing. But I will say is this, every time I went to the public urinal I would gaze down at the plastic plug hole, as different stains of yellowy pee flowed through it and I would think to myself “…. Ok, that’s your last cider… water now… you’re getting wasted”.

Random girl – Where are you from?

Me – Ireland

Random girl -Oh I love Ireland. Do you live in Dublin?

Me – I don’t but it’s lovely.

Random girl -Do you live in Brighton?

Me – No

Random girl -London?

Me – No.

Random girl -I can’t guess anymore.. I’m shit at geography. Where do you live?

Me – Nowhere

Random girl -Are you homeless?

Me – Yes, but no.

Random girl -You have no home.

Me – No. I don’t.

Random girl -Then you’re homeless?

Me – Then, I’m homeless.

Random girl -Oh my god, you’re homeless. That’s so sad.

Me – I’m not really homeless.

Random girl -You don’t live on the streets.

Me – Of course not.

Random girl -You’re too good for the streets, right? You’re more of a doorway in a hotel kinda guy.


You have to understand as you read this. She is smiling all the time, the sun is shinning down. She never breaks eye-contact. It is a really fun conversation. You could read it like she’s being mean and making fun of me but it’s quite the opposite…. that is of course until the conversation… takes a completely different direction.

Me – …… so I just move around a lot.

Random girl – I see. Do you have coke?

Me – No. I don’t sorry.

Random girl -I’ll buy it from you, I wouldn’t expect to take it…

Me – I don’t have any.

Random girl -Oh well. Enjoy your day.

Gone. Literally… just walked away. I mean, I wasn’t expecting life long friendship. I didn’t imagine that we’d be neighbours in cottages with only a small stream dividing us with a cute little red Japanese inspired bridge to bound the properties together in a life long friendship. No, of course not. That thought never entered my head. But still, I felt utterly dismissed because I didn’t have any cocaine. I never have cocaine. It’s basically really expensive caffeine and I can pretty much get the same high out of a few espressos (or expressos as I’ve always thought they were called). And besides, I’ve had little joy sticking things up my nose. One time, in a guys house, I tried a bit, sneezed, and destroyed £100 worth of the stuff and ruined both our evenings. Before that, there was New Years Eve, I thought I was trying cocaine, but it wasn’t, it was something else. I ended up taking a lot of my clothes off and sitting in a shower talking to a soap dispenser. And even before that, I used to stick parts of a rubber (eraser to you American readers, not a condom) up my nose and then blow them at people until one day, a stuck a piece that was too big and no amount of blowing would fix the problem (insert funny comment here). But that’s another blog post.

Random man/woman/unknown person – – Do you have any drugs?

Me – – No. I have gum. Do you want gum?


Walks off. Which was a shame, because he looked like he really needed gum.

In recent years, the city council of Brighton and Hove have started charging for the annual gay pride event. It was growing and growing as more gays like a moth to flame, where flocking to Brighton for sun, sea and feck all sand (it’s a pebble beach, people). The council quickly realised two important things about the gays. They are fabulous (obviously) and they have disposable income. Snap your fingers and suddenly its £25 pounds to enter the park.

Security lady – But it’s so well organised. I think it’s fine.

Me – I don’t. It’s a rip off.

Security lady – If it was free, the queue for the toilets would be huge and the line at the bar would be massive.


She was right. I never really had to queue for either. So in order to get my money’s worth. I made sure that I queued at the bar loads and went to the toilet every 10 minutes to maximize the experience. That’s probably why I got super wasted.

Me – You look sad.

Bar Lady – What can I get you?

Me -Three ciders.

Bar Lady – Ok. Can you carry all three or shall I just give you bottles?

Me -I could stick my fingers in the bottles but that would be gross, I’ll figure something out.

Bar Lady – Erm…. have one with me here and then you can take the two other ones.


Never met this lady in my life. Of course, she would have to be a lesbian. It couldn’t possibly be a hot Arab with arms like hams and eyes like a romantic apocalyptic sun. No, this lady looked a little like a fat Justin Bieber, mixed with Ellen, mixed with …… erm… shite. Yeah, it’s a bit cruel, but the woman was battered, this was not one of her better days.


Me – Why do you look sad?

Bar Lady – Boyfriend problems.


Wow. Not a lesbian. Jesus. Boyfriend problems. She shocked me. I wasn’t expecting that. But curious to know what kind of boyfriend problems she was having. I bet she kicked the crap out him for eating all the roast beef and now he’s afraid of her. That’s definitely it. ……….. I’m so wise.

Bar Lady – On my period and he’s coming down this week.

Me -Oh no. So you’re gonna be a bad mood.

Bar Lady – Well yeah, but also, you know…

Me -What? ……………….. Oh right yeah. Ok. Ok. Ok. I’m with you. Right, yes, got it. See I didn’t get it straight away. I don’t have those problems.

Bar Lady – You’re so lucky.

Me -Life makes so much more sense with two penis’.

Bar Lady – You should get that tattooed on yourself.

Man – Excuse me. Can I order. I’ve been waiting.


It’s probably important to point out that the bar was actually super busy and there were tonnes of people waiting to be served. And there we were, talking about your one, flying the Japanese flag all weekend. Bless her.


Bar Lady – Wait there.


She goes to serve come people and we exchange looks and eventually she comes back.


Bar Lady – You single?

Me – Since birth.

Bar Lady – Impossible.

Me – It’s not. I’m really annoying and a bit of a prick.

Bar Lady – I have the perfect guy for you. My brother is gay.

Me – Is he fat?


Jesus. No. Why. Why did you just say that. Wtf Shane… you idiot.

Bar Lady – What?

Me – Like ph phat.. you know. Is he down?

I proceed to do my best ghetto impression. Not easy if you grew up on a rural Catholic Irish farm.

Bar Lady – I don’t know. He just broke up with his boyfriend.

Me – Rebound.

Bar Lady – Well….

Me – I’m great for a rebound, I’m so bouncy. Look at my belly.

Like the 9th person today that I’ve spoken to about my pot belly. I’m obsessed. I will always ALWAYS find a way to wobble it about.


Bar Lady – You’re not fat at all.


You would know.

Me – Hang on, I’m gonna drop these friends over to my drinks.

Couldn’t see anything wrong with that sentence.

Me – And then I’ll be back. And we shall talk more.

Bar Lady – Ok. Do come back.

Me – I promise I will. I’ll be 5 minutes.


I never went back. I can’t remember why but I know I got talking to a man dressed as a tree talking about the environment but I’m not sure if that was before or after I went the bar.

Tree – We are all just energy. And if we look within our energy that’s all the answers we need. We are our own Gods. We are beautiful.


Oh bollox. It’s India all over again. Round 2 of hippy bollox.


Me – I’m just gonna go and talk to those three tampons over there.


That’s not an expression or slang. There were actually three people dressed up as tampons and I thought I knew of them. I didn’t. I have to say it was odd trying to identify someone as a tampon.


Me – Hey don’t I know you.

Tampon 1 – I don’t think so. But do you want a tampon, we’re giving them away.

Me – I guess that would come in handy for nosebleeds

Tampon 1 – Yeah, that’s a good one. Or you can draw little faces on them and make a puppet show.

Tampon 2 – Or stick them up your bum

Me – Both, fabulous ideas ladies but I’ll pass,


All in all, the gayest Saturday of my life, turned out to be not so exciting. No one hit on me ( unbelievable I know). I got drunk way too early on in the day (has never happened before) and it was super super expensive. Shout out to my two glorious partners in crime – Jason and Ben ( guys, I changed like everyone’s name in this).

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