User menu

Main menu

72 Hours in Dublin: Drink, Cry, Repeat

Later on, I make more friends at—you guessed it—an Irish bar.

I tell the girls I work at Maxim, and they suggest flashing the camera. Good idea! But they settle on this pose instead:

Works for me.

It's getting late, and I have a flight to miss in the morning, so it's time to say farewell to Dublin. But not before this happens:


The World's Weirdest Bars

The 6 Worst National Animals

Around the Web