The Daily Shift’s Martina Gannon starts a series about a roadtrip in Ireland with a certain sexy bogger, if there is such a thing! Could this be the next 50 Shades of Grey?
One day a stranger broke into my trancelike state of daydreaming in the restaurant where I ‘work’ to huskily ask me for directions. He was a boggerman – that is a man from deep in the countryside incapable of using a computer let alone own an account on Facebook. Despite this he somehow appealed to me. He was honest and unapologetic for the bottle of strangeness that he was. Although he was quite clearly in need of a serious hose-down I somehow found his open and articulate country demeanour quite sexy, as I find most Irish men to be emotionally retarded when it comes to self-expression. As we chatted, I chuckled at him and his bogger accent and all the customers in the restaurant leered at us for exchanging numbers (for future travelling purposes). I had the seeds of an idea for a future adventure planted in me. Not his seeds mind, we were not that well acquainted, as of yet.
I had been planning to embark on a trip of a lifetime and make a short film about it for quite a while now but had been ‘lacking sufficient funds’ in the words of the ATM machine. Now here was a man presenting me with his goods (oh-la-la) and apparently willing to put his life in my clumsy, disaster-prone hands, who was I not to seize this juicy opportunity?
And so I set about finding a map of Ireland. A few embarrassing mistakes with Google maps later and I eventually began to acquaint myself with the squiggles and jigsaw pieces on the west-facing teddy-bear that is Ireland on a map. My next task was to recruit fellow travellers. Boggerman (also known as Peader) was an obvious given as he owned at least a million automobiles and actually knew his way around the country. He had also never foolishly caused a road traffic accident whilst attempting to energetically rap along to the best of Fiddy cent, unlike somebody else I could name. Despite the adage of threes a crowd I knew I needed somebody else to dispel the inevitable sexual tension between myself and Mr.Bog Almighty. Besides this was a short film I was making not a porno. With inappropriate home-made movies in mind I recruited my most insane friend Denise aka the kinky, minxy midget, midget for short. I informed her she would be joining me on an earth-shattering exciting adventure. Like most of my dangerously stupid plans she thoughtlessly agreed.
First I had to prepare a conscientious, all-inclusive survival list for our expedition:
- Giant, fluffy Russian mafia hat. Check.
- Lifetime supply of apples for my on-going chronic apple addiction. Check and double-check.
- Snowboots (cooler/sexier than wellies?).
- Sunglasses (haha) to prevent me from being blinded by all the clouds in Ireland.
- First aid mouth-to-mouth protection thingy (to avoid catching foot and mouth off country-boy incase of emergency).
- One bottle of nasty vodka to loosen the gang up. Check.
- Homeless-man jacket for sleeping rough. Check.
- Lucky underwear. Check.
- Condoms. You never know.
Now all that was left to do was to get my two chums together and get this paw-tay started.
Stay tuned for the next installment of 50 Shades of Bogger.
*Lead image courtesy of Denis Wettman