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In my last post which nobody read (this is Hive), I wrote about being away in Portugal with some friends of mine and we meet up every few years and go on a boozy trip together. It was Euro 2016 since we last got away together. Those were simpler times where none of us had a ring on our finger. This time however we were leaving broods and wives were waving us away with handkerchiefs. This also meant that we could not wait to get away for a bit of freedom in the sun so the whatsapp group was buzzing with excitment. We were heading away on Friday the 13th. What was the worse that can happen we said?? We chose to leave very very early for the airport to get away from our loved ones and have a clear run of the day. I declared that the nicest drink of the holiday was the airport pint and many agreed so we left for the airport up to 4 hours early. The airport was 45 minutes away. Head to Cork, through the cities one tunnel and away off to the airport. While we got closer to the city we noticed a large tailback. On the news there was a traffic warning. Someone had crashed into a cement mixer in the tunnel. The tunnel was impassable and there would be hour long delays. The first of our challenges set in as I navigated through the chaos and found a slip road to a village called Glanmire, into Cork city and out to the airport. It was a narrow escape and others missed the flight. It was lucky we were 4 hours early. I had time for my 1 airport pint before we boarded

Smooth Sailing From Here Blanchy! uttered a friend.
*Smoooooooooothhhh Sailing"

In fact we were flying but that was besides the point. When we hopped on the plane it was delayed taking off by 30 minutes so we sat there until the pilot informed us that it would be 2 more hours before they would take off. So we were sitting there on the tarmac just waiting. Oh and they also could not serve alcohol because us Irish would be bananas after a 2 hour wait and the air hostesses were not having any of that so there was a booze ban until we took off. Anyway the reason for the delay was the French air traffic control strike. The bloody French again ruining things. If any of you people are French reading this, you guys have to work, you can't all be retiring at 62. Suck it up you cheese eating surrender monkeys. Suc Le Bleu. We finally took off up to 3 hours later. 3 and a half hours would have gotten us a refund with EU regulation but that Ryanair pilot was taking off for high or high water before that would come into play. Finally we were airborne.

Smooth Sailing From Here Blanchy! uttered a friend.
*Smoooooooooothhhh Sailing"

We arrived at our hotel accosted by a gaggle of prostitutes. I think that's what you call a group of hoes. Or maybe it is a blowjob. Yes, a blowjob of prostitutes greeted us at the hotel entrance which was not the most welcoming of receptions. Well it was very welcoming, a bit too welcoming. So we fought past the ladies of the night into the shitty hotel and the receptionist was missing.

Smooth Sailing from Here Blanchy! uttered a friend.
*Smoooooooooothhhh Sailing"

The receptionist finally sauntered back 30 minutes later and got our passports and away we went. We were finally here. A shower and change of clothes and we were out out. We went for a bite to eat while watching Ireland versus Greece and then we went into the Irish pub close by. The thing about us Irish is that we love going abroad and finding the closest thing to home we can find. So we travel abroad to find an Irish pub. The destination was really affluent so I was on the lookout for super yacht owners and how they carried themselves. When we went into the pub there were lads up on tables , hanging out of chandeliers and the place was crazy. The pub did not have a name . It was just called The Irish Pub which is funny in a way. Old men were dancing all over the joint. There were the usual tripping over stools or falling off tables injuries. It was like a warzone. I was laughing. What caught my eye were a pair of identical twins in the middle of the carnage. They were the only ones there not Irish. What best way to describe them was two billionaires sons that had sailed in on a superyacht with the expensive clothes , long floppy hair and bright sparkling teeth. Now I am no closet homosexual but I love people watching and these two were very interesting. I have never seen twins before that were both homosexual. They were dancing around , hugging each other , having a laugh. They had the yacht jumpers over their shoulders like good Yacht people do. It looked like they came from the Hamptons. Definite billionaires sons. I nudged one of the boys to check out the two points of interests and he answered back that they were definitely shagging each other in the Superyacht at night.

"BUT THEY ARE TWINS" I answered back. THEY CANT BE.

As the drinks went in. I became enthralled with the twins. One of my favourite characters in a TV series is a guy called Superhans from Peep Show. I started quoting this clip the more drunk I got.

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I bloody love those twins

After an hour more I was quoting Superhans at every utterance. "I bloody love them two". So my sole aim of my night was to get a photo of the twins. When I managed this , I decided to go one step more and then get a photo with the twins in a group which I succeeded! All of a sudden it became a photoshoot and I had got what I wanted. A selfie with the twins

I bloody love the twins

At 5am the angry bouncers were let off the leash and kicked everyone out. The twins told us that there was a lovely wine bar up the road and we preceded to head there with them. They were Brazilian guys and really nice fellas. Little English but good sign language. A few questionable hangers one followed us there including a gaggle of prostitutes who were undercover in the pubs. One had great English. But you can only be so much undercover with nipple tassels before you are found out. I had them clocked and I ain't the kind of guy to be paying for any services. But it's a free country , if anyone wants to make their way up to the wine bar with a few Irish lads and the twins then they can if they like. Just keep away from my area and we are fine.

We were well on at this stage of things and a friend of mine who was enamored by the twins as well decided to buy the whole wine bar a drink. Everyone was delighted and the party kept going. More dancing ensued and the undercover agents started twerking tassels flouncing in the early morning air.

Everyone was having a great time. But I looked around and realised that the undercover agents and the twins all knew each other. Hardly a sign of billionaire sons cavorting with a gaggle of prostitutes. I suppose it was a small resort. It was not a trap because it was our gang that decided to make contact with the billionaires children in the first place. But something was not right. Every word that came out of my mouth was being watched. We were in a wine bar that had a lot of traffic into its basement. Questionable traffic. I whispered to a friend. We are in trouble here. He did not see it. Then I spelt it out for him so the Portuguese would not be able to understand the thick Irish accent. I think we are in

T-R-O-U-B-L-E

My friends did not heed the danger. They were hypnotised by the sheer amount of twerking going on. One of the twins copped I was edgy. SENIOR BLANCO. U OK??

I looked at the exit door. It's every man for himself here. If the lads can't see a potential kidney theft then I done all my can. It was their problem but I was gonna look after numero uno. It was like a warzone with bombs going off beside me but replace bombs with twerking bootys getting closer and closer to impact. I was being hit from either side. It was now or never. I got up and ran for the door. The wine bar was at the top of a street and the road leading down was really long before I got to a corner. Like 200 metres long. I ran for my life leaving my friends behind. I tripped over a bin half way down the road but got up and kept running. I was free. I was laughing to myself as was my relief with a grazed knee and elbow. I could hear in the background someone shouting

SENOR BLANCOOOOOOOOOOO

It was one of the twins who had clocked I was gonna press the escape button. Noone was gonna steal my kidneys today. No siree!

I got back to the bar beside my hotel and had a few vodka and cokes and laughed to myself that my friends were still in the wine bar probably getting murdered. I was actualy laughing out loud so much that the barman asked what was so funny. 15 minutes later my friends turned up!

My friend said it was the funniest thing he had ever seen me running down the road tripping over a bin. They had made their escape themselves but in a much neater fashion. They just drank their drinks and gave the twins and the gaggle of fleusies a hug and left.

It was a lucky escape but we laughed solidly the next day about the twins.

I still bloody loved those twins

All the events in the above post are entirely true.