Sri Lanka’s diary entry #1: You just can’t trust road signs.

Sri-Lanka Byrne has a tough time in an unknown area of Dublin. ‘Read more’ below the ads.

.9th of February 2019.

Dear diary,

I was on the M50 heading northbound on the way to meet the girlos in town for a mid-to-late lunch and an ol’ gossip.

You have to be careful on the M50 as it has a total mix of people driving on the roads. I read somewhere that there’s like 10 commoners for every 1 pure-blooded South-Sider.

Because of this, I have to drive with 6 armoured support units behind me. Ya like it’s expensive, sure, but like nothing beats blowing up a few commoner cars that get too close. After all, my father is the Minister for Private Schools.

For example; John, my explosives specialist like literally blew up this embarrassing Ford Focus in the overtaking lane.

In the confusion and joy of blowing up cars, I may have taken a wrong turn. I thought the exit sign said ‘Young, Handsome Leinster Academy Rugger Players’.

I was separated from the rest of the convoy. But screw it, I was on my way to find the man of my dreams, probs a 6 foot 6 stunner.

Ya, well, I ended up at these like, traffic lights. A man came over in a yellow luminous vest. I was like to myself, “Yas, omergod Sri, that vest could just be the new jersey for the U20’s team”.

And guess what? It was actually a guy trying to sell me newspapers! I nearly puked. Like omergod, just no.

Then the ‘Rover broke down. So I continued on foot to try and find wherever these Leinster Rugger Players were at. I tried cracking open a tub of whey protein to get them to come out of their habitats.

However, after a good few hours of searching I simply gave up and I went to find a hotel to stay the night. I ended up at a massive hotel that had multiple levels of parking. I needed somewhere to stay. I needed a private room.

In the reception, one person was being carted in by like 10 people to their own private room. Like this place was state of the art! 10 private servants? Back at the monsion we only have 1 per room!

Like, what kind of a hotel was this? Especially with a name like ‘A & E’. It sounded fancy.

The receptionist was like “what’s the injury? why are you here? do you need help?”

I was like “Ya I do actually need help, mental injury like. I’ve overdosed on disappointment. I’ll take a room thanks” She was like, “Sorry you need a real injury or life threatening issue in order to stay here”. I left the hotel. . .

The father told me over the mobile that I was in an area that’s not even on the Monopoly board! Ew.

Ya, well I just slept in the ‘Rover out on the street. So, just saying like, it’s deffo Ireland’s worst hotel.

Like, what kind of a name is ‘Tallaght Hospital‘ anyways?

Joey’s diary entry #1: Me Gooser jacket horror story.

Joey is terrified over his ripped jacket!
‘Read more’ below

.Feb 2nd 2019. Joey’s Secret Diary

Dear diary,

‘Ah jaesus this Gooser is so bleedin’ noice’, I thought to meself, after walking out of tha Brown Tomo store. I decided to name the jacket ‘Jackie’.I also just dropped a few hundo euros on a pair of ‘Nike scatterlads‘.

A yous have no clue; the amount of fit girls looking me way was mad. I swear there was wan bird eyeing me up and down as if I was a meal. I nodded to me boy’ose on the corner of Dealersteet, me territory of this part of Dublin.

Business is booming at the moment. That tax reduction the North Side Dáil introduced on Cocaine really makes the difference in me profits. That means I don’t have to add flour or bakin’ soda to the produce to bulk it out.

Speakin’ of flour that reminds me of the days before the tax cut. I don’t tell the lads but I’m actually quite a charitable person. I once donated some cooking ingredients to help with an old people’s home party in BallyCivic.

So basically, I arrived in me Subaru with what I thought was flour for their choco cake. Well long story short it was actually me Pure Columbian Cocaine that I donated!

Funny stuff tha. But I feel so bleedin’ sorry now for the overweight oldy who told me he loves choco cake. Rest In Peace Barry. You exceeded the two-slice dosage pal.

Anyways,

I was walking down tha street on tha way to obtain another load of chips and coke for me lunch. I was starving me face off. A spice bag cost tree euro but I wasn’t going to pay a ridiculous wad of cash for me lunch; so I wipped out me handbook on ‘Dublin Survival Tips For Tha Lads’.

This little bible of a book helped me get through the six year long national shortage of chips and vinegar.

So, what did I do? I used tip no. 56: ‘When doubt, steal tha bleedin’ bag of chips’.

I snatched and ran. The chipper owner was fumin’. I made it out of tha door, but I just had to snatch me Gooser on the door handle. Suddenly a cloud of feathers exploded out of me jacket.

I ran down the street and into an alleyway. I was sweating and breathing more heavily than a Pedo in Legoland. It was at this moment that tears were shed. ‘Jackie’ was ruined.

There I lay for a long bleedin’ time before I called one of the lads to pick me up.

I was a mess. The day will come soon though, when I’ll get a Gooser nicer than ‘Jackie’. Besides she wasn’t that loyal anyways, swear I saw Davo unzipping her the other night at me gaff!

Sincerely, Joey.