Holly Golightly’s Dublin Diary: ‘My pre-Christmas piss-up in duty-free with the Coronas and the fucking Stoly’s
I’ve been living the life of a langer this week as I blagged a freebie into the millionaires’ playground of Dublin Airport duty-free.
It was my first time ever there and I was literally counting down the pee-breaks, I was so excited.
I actually bumped into Bob Geldof in the airport, which pissed him off rightly as I floored him with my elbow. That got the trip off to a good start. He even told me to ‘Fock right off, pleb’ after I barged into him in the queue for security which was pretty normal of him.
I managed to resist asking him for a selfie’ but I may have taken a sly pic of his boring fucking arse!
On the first night, we all went to a late night brunch in a restaurant called CostaLotta in the James Joyce Plaza. There was a stunning view of Ryanair’s offices and the food was shite. It’s an all you can eat and drink menu and they serve you a million different types of meat at your table, none of which was recognisable.
I was determined to stay healthy while on my holidays so I was sending my mate Joxer photos of the fags and beer I was delightfully enjoying. I know you’re not supposed to smoke in the bogs but I stuffed my undies into the smoke detector and had a good old drag.
It’s really easy to keep it clean in the bathrooms ‘cos they have free water and soap and those blowjob machines to dry your hands. I just made sure to eat enough fresh fruit trifle to keep me regular.
When everyone orders dessert, I usually go for the high-fibre option, which is my preferred laxative.
I also think it’s kind of easy to be healthy in duty-free when you know you’re going to get thrown out soon enough, and you want to look and feel good for the CCTV.
The brunch had a laid-back atmosphere at the start and then a load of Eastern European cleaners appeared out of nowhere and there was music blaring. We were pretty wrecked by that stage so we all stripped off and danced all over where they were mopping. They weren’t very happy about that and told us to be ‘Fuck offing’.
On Friday, we spent the day in W.H.Smith where we chilled out under the fluorescents and sank a few more Stolys. I met up with my friend Fuckface McGuire who’s living in a bin round the back of Servisair and it was so good to catch up. On Friday night we went to that Skybridge yoke to see planes land and fuck around on the travelators, something I’ll be doing lot more of!! Fuckface sadly got his runner laces caught in one and had to have his leg amputated.
Aside from my own personal thoughts on acquired disability, I still really like Fuckface, he’s a sound guy. The Skybridge itself was amazing. It’s kind of like a bridge in the sky, with glass and shit and you can see as far as Finglas.
The next day we went hung around at the departure gates, playing guess which fucking number Ryanair are flying from today. We had a full BBQ, drank a shitload of Corona, three bottles of Stoly, listened to music, set off the fire alarms and annoyed the shit out of a few pensioners on their way to Malaga.
It’s a shame we got arrested though the Guards were sparing in the use of pepper spray and my hangover only lasted three days. Fuckface is fine now and Joxer loved the fags we nicked.by