RAG Week: Wrapup

In the spirit of moving on to new events, I'm going to make this the LAST entry about that damn RAG Week with some brief comments on what I did (except if any future career threatening photos pop up that I just have to post). Monday: U2/RHCP tribute concert was some serious craic. Definitely the best night of the week, and the pictures exist to prove it. Tuesday: Aslan concert, Mary Idol, Back to School party. Aslan is a fun, hardworking Irish band that has been at it for a long time (they're all on the wrong side of 40); I would love to take a trip to see play again somewhere around Ireland in the next few months. Mary Idol was supposed to be like American Idol, except everyone I heard perform used a guitar. Some girl who sang Damien Rice's "Cannonball" won. Fun, but it didn't deserve a much-coveted blog entry of its own. The Back to School Party was only noteworthy for the effect my hat had on the masses, which in its own right was pretty comical. Wednesday: Mundy, 70's Night, 70's Band, 70's DJ. Mundy had a few good songs, but see Just Another Reason Why Bruce Is The Boss for the real story. Aslan was much more enjoyable. The 70s band rocked out, although it was made up of just about the weirdest combination of three people than I could have ever imagined. A gay, spaztic, older frontman in white pants, a younger chic in a mini-dress and heels on the keys, and a guy in a kilt playing bass who didn't even look like he would pass even for Ireland's most forgiving drinking age. After the band, the 70s party shifted down to the nightclub, where the highlight and lowlight of the night came with the same guy. The highlight being the many pictures that people were taking next to a poor sap who had the misfortune of passing out in public, and the lowlight being the same guy chundering up his dinner rice on some of my friends' coats minutes later. Oh sweet but crusty irony. Thursday: Comedian, foam party. Comedian was in top form, especially when he was imitating how Germans come to Ireland with weather-proof everything. Right Sven? Foam party was more like a bubble party, although the fact that I was wearing a white tee and floral swim trunks among a crowd of fancy club go-ers did have it's own certain charm that I can't deny. Friday: "Diehards" night at Trinity Rooms. Understanding now why they called it "diehards," as my body had been yelling at me since Wednesday, our apartment did what anyone else who was dead tired would do: throw a party and have at it. And so we did. I don't know if I've ever said this before, but graciously, the weekend came and I could finally get some good rest. What a crazy week. Every night, the clubs were packed and everyone was body to body, well hydrated, and ready to go. Since this is most likely the only time in my life I'll be able to say the following, I'm gonna go ahead and say it. I did manage to take in at least one drink every day Monday-Sunday, leaving specific quantities to the imagination and to my pictures. And in this case, admission is not the first step toward recovery. I'm okay, I promise. Culture shocked maybe, but still in control. It was an interesting plunge into the culture of the Irish college student, but I can't say I wasn't glad that the week game to an end.