Win or lose, we Irish know how to party. So, ok! Those dastardly English came to Dublin and beat us on our patch, but never let it be said that we are not gracious in defeat. Get the Guinness poured, and let’s enjoy the craic.
But after a night of drinking, singing, lamenting, more singing and a lot of dancing, I can’t help but feel a little bit moody. We did lose after all, and to the English!
A moody Robert is no fun whatsoever. There is only one person, who can cheer me up, my lovely Houseguest. Turning up on her doorstep, drunk and bedraggled at midnight would normally result in bizarre BDSM torture, but on this occasion, she cut me some slack.
How to take my mind off defeat?
Houseguest sitting on my face will do that. Game, what game?
When a man is put to work like this, who cares about rugby?
I’m not sure if my tongue skills are the best after a keg of Guinness, but my mind was sure taken off the game.
She is just so sweet, asking me if I feel better, after she has come on my face. Of course I feel better!
One good turn deserves another, so it was the breakfast of champions for Houseguest this morning.
It took the edge off my hangover and put a bounce in my step.
Women, don’t you just love them.
Do you cheer your moody man up?
What little trick do you employ?
How does he cheer you up?
Femme Fatale: Slave to My Nature Series