What Happened Next – The Paul Ryan Saga
Last Updated on Tuesday, 15 February 2011 10:58 Written by owen.ryan Tuesday, 15 February 2011 10:58
The Paul Ryan Story – What happened Next
There were a lot of people who thought Aoife was off her trolly having anything to do with me again, especially after I killed her cat. But you cant help who you fall in love with and seeing her face this one particular Friday night, when I threw the head on her in Hayses, well she looked as happy as a cow with my hand up her arse. A couple of the lads were against the idea of me getting involved with again but I cant help myself.
Didn’t want anything heavy, of course. No boyfriend – girlfriend thing. Call me shallow or whatever the new word is now-adays, scumbag or something, but basically I’m after one thing…. And I ain’t talking about bacon and cabbage. But the thing with Aoife is that you have to work hard at her. I end up letting her believe that were an item, but I tell her that I’m a shy guy and that she’s my first and that I’d be nervous introducing her to my family and friends bullshit bullshit….. She falls for it anyway and we’ve decided No Public Appearances. Last thing I want is my picture on the Tipp Star Christmas week, enjoying myself in Hayses’s. Once bitten, twice shy. Fair play to her actually, she’s really determined not to give me any. Four times I’ve met her in Hayses, I don’t know how she resists me. She keeps going on about how she got hurt the last time…..I’m trying to keep it to myself, that it was the cat the got hurt and if he’d moved a bit quicker swinging the ould Corolla in the driveway he’d be grand. Anyway, I’ve a GOLF Gti now, better handling. THAT wont happen again.
She rings me up one evening, saying something about her parents are going out at 8 that I’ve to come over at 7 to meet them. I was only half listening, cos I’m a Celebrity Get me Out of Here was on. I’d nearly go on that show. If I got half a chance with that Sophie Anderton wan, I know I could have her. Anyway I hate meeting the parents, the whole, “Hi, I’m stringing along with you daughter until I get bored of her, but I’m a nice guy” sort of thing is getting hard to do. Its harder to dump the girls after you met the whole family, even the granny who’s bent over in the corner dribbling on herself. I don’t know, maybe I’m too sensitive or something.
I don’t leave the house until 8, over in her place well past 8.30 and when she says I just missed them I go all ‘Ah, shit those fecking stray cattle on the road in Luke” and she’s “there’ll be other times Paul” Like hell there will, and I give her a big hug. I have to say right, I’m feeling a bit uncomfortable at one stage. Aoife got a new dog, a Pomeranian called Freckles which was a present from her parents to replace Simba that got pankaked under my Corolla. Lets not dig that up again though. I’m not a great dog lover, I like greyhounds don’t get me wrong. They have a purpose, but this little shit. What is his purposse?? But I like the girl, sort of, so I go with the flow. I even pet the little fucking thing just to show Aoife that I don’t kill every animal I lay my eyes on and after 20 minutes she starts to relax.
The problem with Pomeranians is that their horney little fuckers and Freckles hasn’t been givin the snip yet. So he’s taken all the petting as basically a come-on and no sooner have I sat down than he’s up on my lap sniffing my crotch with his little carrot sticking out. I know it’s happened everybody at some stage in their lives, just like being on Tipp FM, but there’s nothing more embarrassing. I start trying to un-embarrass the situation by saying he must smell my own dog from my clothes. And then she starts asking, “what kind of dog do I have?” so I start going on about my greyhound called Drom-Her-Up, who is costing me a fortune in training fees and is only interested in chasing blackbirds. I cant tell Aoife if the greyhound doesn’t win her next race she’s going to doggy heaven, cos I can guess her reaction. I finally beg Aoife to do something and she tells Freckles to get off, letting him know that if anyone in the room is going to be getting anything tonight, its not going to be him! Off Freckles trots to his little doggy bed in the corner with his little fantasies and Aoife put on Titanic on DVD, which is a film, I know my way around.
To cut a long story short, long before Leonardo gets his up close and personal with Kate Winslet, myself and herself are practically ripping the cloths off each other. I open my eyes and I start to notice her fake tan. I’m trying to keep it in but I cant and I start bursting my face laughing at her. She stops everything and goes what so funny, I’m splurt out “So You Inseminate Cows Too”?? smiling at her streaky orange arms… When she finally copped it she runs to the bathroom bawling her eyes out. She looks like she had her arm up a cows arse like in Vets on Call, my favorite TV programme by the way.
Poor Aoife doesn’t even know how to put on fake tan!!!! The sap.
Now I’m not exaggerating but the second Aoife’s gone, the very second, up hops Freckles out of his corner, obviously thinking this was his chance! He’s back sniffing at my groin, the little carrot out again. I try to push him away but he’s having none of it. I even hit him a few sly slaps across the nose but it only seems to make him want some more. All of a sudden he’s up on my leg, riding me, his eyes closed his tail in the air and his arse doing ninety. So I decide to teach the fucker a lesson once and for all. NO means NO. I stand up; the thing still clinging to my leg, banging away, eyes shut the whole sha-bang. I take 2 steps backs, to like get a small run at it, I run and kick my leg in the air, sending Freckles flying into the wall on the other side of the room. SMACK!!
But the thing is he hits the wall, then the ground and he doesn’t move and at first I’m thinking he’s probably jetlagged from the flight. But then I get worried because he didn’t make any sound either except this sort of yelp thing, as he was flying through the air. Hilarious. But the second he hit the wall there was silence and I’m beginning to fear the worst. I walk over to where he’s landed and right enough there’s no movement. Freckles more than stunned, he’s fucking history. I’m looking around me, seeing where I can dispose of the evidence. Maybe bury the little fucker before Aoife comes back, try to convince her that he ran away from home or some bullshit story like that. I look at the fireplace but decide against it, as it would probably leave a smell by cremating him in the sitting room. But of course- and you know what’s coming next because I’m basically cursed – I turn around and there’s Aoife standing there in a gaze of disbelief, she saw the whole fucking thing. Turns out she arrived back in the room with her scuttery arm, just as Freckles was taking off for Shannon Airport. She saw him hit the wall, she saw me cracking my hole laughing, she saw me sticking his dead ass into a coal bucket and ready to take him out to the garden. She’s looking at me as if I’m Hannibal Lector, but I suppose in the pet world I probably am. I try to explain to her that he was riding me leg but she’s not giving me an inch. She opens her mouth and all that come out is this high pitched scream, pretty much the same noise she made when I turned the Simba into pizza crust. I turn and get the fuck out of there, just as she turns on the waterworks.
The secret with birds is, you see, is knowing when to walk away.
Loading ...