The Billy Elliot Story

Time/Date:  00:30 / Late January 2010
Setteen:       Dublin City Centre

The story goes like this. After a night of chilling with 2 LEGEND IRISH dudes Mike "The Edge" Edge (What an awesome name hey!) and Andrew "Thespian" Adamson (Yes, he is in fact, a raging thespian!) in 3 Dublin pubs chuggeeen Guinness and shouting (they were loud, crowded pubs) about everything from Tigers and Lions to Betties (Girls) and many other interesting and controversial subjects, I bid my adieu to the Lads and headed for home. My mode of transport? The Luas which is a Light Train/Tram type of contraption which ferries people in and out of the city each day and night.

Shortly after hopping on the Luas and finding a kiff spot to stand and look swave^(read: "swarve") / Super-Sexay-Schick, I noticed this dude and chick hop on and sit down, not too far from where I was standing and looking swave^(read: "swarve") / Super-Sexay-Schick. I took little notice of them at the time because I was too busy focussing on looking swave^(read: "swarve") / Super-Sexay-Schick. Anyway, a minute or 2 later, the Luas started moveeen off from Stephen's Green toward Harcourt Road.

So there I was standing on the Luas, trying very hard not to look like I was trying very hard at looking swave^(read: "swarve") / Super-Sexay-Schick, when all of a sudden I heard a burst of laughter. Looking around, I noticed the girl (who hopped on a few minutes earlier with her beau) looking at me and laughing. I thought nothing of it at first because as you know oftentimes you laugh and look around, catch some unrelated person's eye and continue in your space laugheen, etc. So I thought it was unrelated. Anyway, a moment later, I noticed her chuckleeen again and now this other girl sitting next to her was also looking and laugheeen. At ME! This was now becoming an issue. I thought to myself "Bags full of sh(one)t!" Then I thought "What have I done to deserve this? I have not just recited a poem / Poe-Rap (Pronounced Po-A-Rap - The combo of a rap and a poem), or whipped out a perfect ballet demi-plie^, so why oh why is she laugheeen?" A moment later, again it happened, by which time my face was red as something really red like the inside of a grapfefruit or this stapler on my desk (it's red). Then I thought "Have I got something on my face? That's the only explanation. But what could lead to such abandoned laughter? POO! I must have poo ... ON MY FACE!" Then I thought "but how did I get poo on my face?" and then I thought "if there is, in fact, poo - on my face - why the EFFELS did my boys Mike "The Edge" Edge and Andrew "Thespian" Adamson not be good Borsels and tell me (BASTARDS!) (PS: I love U guys!) that I have POO ON MY BLOODIE FACE (!), to save me from further embarrassment!?!"

So then I proceeded to do what any sane person in my situation would do. I started rubbing my face. Yip, that's right, I rubbed and tweaked my face and nose like a I was buffing a car. Using both hands, discreetly though (sure!), tweaking my nose and wiping my mouth, all the time continuing to look totally swave^(read: "swarve") / Super-Sexay-Schick, of courses! After rubbing my face from all different angles for what seemed an eternity, I was satisfied that whatever the offending substance was, whether it be poo or a snollie (which I suddenly thought was a more likely explanation), must've been dealt with by now. So I relaxed and continued the ride. The next thing I know though, the dude who had accompanied the initial laughing girl onto the Tram, was now also looking at me and chuckling!!! "FLIPSELS!" I shouted in anguish (shouted. Inside my head that is). I then thought that "enough is in fact, certainly in this scenario, ENOUGH!" So I walked toward them (roughly 4 or 5 paces) and said "What is it?"  Then the dude said: "They think U look exactly like Billy Elliot." "Oh!" I sighed with relief and said "Shew, is that all? I thought I had Poo on my face." Then they said "no" and then I said "that's good" and then they said "yeah." I then told them that "people have told me before that I resemble Billy Elliot, but I am not sure whether I am too encouraged by it" then the initial laughing girl said "Well, U look like a grown-up Billy Elliot, not the young one." and I said "thanks." She then said that the this French chick sitting next to her also agreed that I do, in fact, look like Bill. At this the french chick nodded and said: "Oui Oui!" (Actually she didn't say "Oui, Oui" but she did nod. I just thought a bit of "Francais" would give this Story a nice international and multi-cultural flavour!) and then we all chuckled a tad.

     

                                             Really?

I then chatted to the guy a little bit about SA, etc. (He correctly picked my accent and country, thankfully not calling me Australian!). Then they hopped off the Luas and I carried on satisfied that there was, in actual fact, no poo on my face, trying very hard to regain my composure and to once again look totally swave^(read: "swarve") / Super-Sexay-Schick.

End of story.