The story of Jimbob (Curry Chips)

Jimbob is your average happy-go-lucky country lad, working in Dublin.

He likes nothing better than a bit of hostelry hoo-haa with the lads, a few gallons of beer and a tongue sandwich on the bus home if he can still manoeuvre his head through the fog of inebriation.

Jimbob's life was uncomplicated.

Until one fateful night...

Jimbob: "...so she says 'Of course you can't smell my bottom!" and that's when I say...wait for it...'Jesus love, it must be your feet so'!"
Bodger: "GAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA CLASSIC!"
Jimbob: "She threw her drink in my face, but I had the gob already open so I got most of it."
Bodger: "A fine tactic and no mistake."

Jimbob: "Uhup, what's this? Poontang for Jimbob at twelve o'clock!"
Bodger: "Grand, that gives us two more hours drinking time. Same again?"

Lauren: "So I was like, left there? All on my tobler? All because this complete ORSEHOLE forget his fucking plastic. And I'm like OMG! LEW-ZERRRR!"

Lauren: "Wewww, cute culchie guy, mm-hmmm."
Saoirse: "Lauren! You're like OMG! A total slag!"
Lauren: "Oh yah, I am like Queen of the slags!"
[they both titter]

Jimbob: "Bodger me boy, I'm sorted there. Go on anyway, you were after comin' outta the phonebox with that one and the lads didn't believe you got anything offa her."

Bodger: "Yeah, so I says 'Did I get any action? SCHMELL THIS!'" [proffering fingers]

Jimbob: "GAAAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh Jesus Bodge, you're fuckin' rank, you really are."

[later]

Jimbob: "Hoho! How's it goin, hah? Can I buy you a pint of smithwicks?"
Lauren: "Smithwicks! LOL! OMG!"
Jimbob: "Heh heh! Yeah! Right like!"

[later]

Lauren: "...so I'm like having a DMC with Sheona when Brandon pulls up in his Santa Fe - and it's like, a 02-MH so we're like-" [makes loser sign]
Jimbob [thinking]: "More beer. Need more beer."

Jimbob [thinking]: "Jesus, that's better. I can barely hear her now."

Jimbob [thinking]: "Fuck me. She's getting thinner and all. This beer's mighty stuff."
Lauren [faintly]: "...eight fat frogs...out of my box LOL..."

Lauren [faintly]: "...and I'm like NO WAY am I letting him know where my bebo page is..."
Jimbob [thinking]: "Jesus, even on the shorts I can still hear her God-awful prattling."

Jimbob: "Lads, I told that stupid cow that I was going to the jacks but her fucking incessant prattle is going to drive me outta my mind. Let's get the flock outta dodge and go to Abrakebabra alright?"

Saoirse: "Eh...Lauren, that guy en route to the exit? Isn't that the mulchie you were chatting up?"
Lauren: "That like, total prick! OMG he can't walk out on me! I'm going to get his number, BRB."

[next morning]

[assorted sub-duvet flatulence punctuated by the odd snore]

BEEP-BEEP-BEEP!

Jimbob: "Ah what the FUCK! Who fuckin'-" [phrrrrp] "-texts when it isn't even midday!?"

Jimbob: "Probably Bodger looking to borrow my bogroll, the mean hoor."

Jimbob: "'Nice job - oo wrecked our night'. Whah? 'Nice job - uh wrecked our night'? 'Nice job uh! Wrecked our night'. What the fuck?"

Jimbob: "Ooh? Uh?" [phrrpppp] "I'm stumped." [BEEP-BEEP-BEEP!] "Jaysus, another message."

Jimbob: "'Oo really blew it'. Blew it? Jesus I didn't get so bad I got my gums round some lad's plums?!! Oh sweet Jesus help me!"

Jimbob: "Oh no. Oh God no. It's that mindless southside bubblehead." [BEEP-BEEP-BEEP!] "I'll have to change my number." [tosses mobile onto bed/heads into bathroom]