Alright Boy. How’s the form? Jesus, wait till I tell ya. It’s all kicked off here. I’m after just moving in with three girls. Sure, I am only weak for myself. All my washing is done and all my dinners. Unreal deal. Anyway, sure I’m only after going and ruining the entire thing for myself. Classic, boy. You wouldn’t believe what I am after doing.
It’s pure awkward, boy. Myself and Ellen sleep downstairs and in the middle of the night, I only wandered into her room, thinking it was my own and I got into the bed beside her. It was pure awkward when I woke up. It wasn’t until the morning when Ellen woke up. She didn’t seem to mind but your one Kate was raging. I don’t get it like. Sure it was only a mistake. Could have happened anyone. She’d need to chillax, like. Don’t you think?
Well anyway now, we are all to have a ‘house meeting’ to discuss this situation. Sure I don’t see the problem. How was I to know what I was doing in the middle of the night? They are all taking it very serious, altogether. I was pure haunted to get out of the house and away from the atmosphere.
Living with women, ye don’t get it. ‘Tis hard work like. They are all pure difficult to please. You have to watch things like The Notebook on the telly and they are forever on a diet. Kate is on Tinder and I have to endure all of the conversations about all the texts. They are so confusing!
“Siobhan! He’s after texting me.” That’s how she carries on. She waits an hour then before she texts him back, like. They don’t want to seem desperate? Have you ever heard of the likes of these mind games? Jesus, you would have to be your man Sherlock to figure them out, like! How is any man supposed to figure out the likes of them? They are so worried then when he doesn’t text back straight away. But sure, he’s probably down the pub with the fellas. You know yourself? You would need a degree to understand a woman! They pretend not to care about texting your man back but as soon as one of them leaves and it’s just them, and myself there is a mad scramble then to be texting the fella back.
Kate met this American guy last week in Tesco and get this. He asked her in the middle of Tesco’s to go out for coffee. Coffee. In the middle of Tesco. Mortification. Holy God. The Americans haven’t a notion. That’s what Anna says, anyway. She said:
“Tis all well and good, in their own culture to be asking people you met in the biscuit isle to go out with you but you can’t be carrying on like that in Ireland, like. Sure that only screams murderer. Americans have a load to learn about how to date an Irish person. The trick is to act aloof. They are far to emotional for their own good.”
I don’t get it myself. I am the only man of the house and they treat me like a baby. “Sure, Brody you are the only man for me.” They are always cuddling me and hugging me. I’m not against it like but you know yourself. I say nothing. It’s safer that way boy. I’m like:
“Alright girl. Go away, will ya? I’m too stressed.”
Listen, mind yourselves. I’ll see ye later. I better head home. My dinner will be ready and I don’t want to be missing out. It’ll be pure awkward!