OK, I know, I know, I've been pathetic in the blogging stakes. Very, very much.
Too much going on, all tomorrow's parties seemed to come at once, all the frustrations, highs, asides and lows of the last three weeks stiffening the two fingers I use to type. Left thumb for caps.
So what's up? My mood, considerably. Kitten conflicts and chest palpitations rendered me a grumpy bastard for a week or thereabouts. That all got sorted thanks to a) a very nice lady from Maynooth and b) the jettisoning of coffee from my diet. Presto. Not a bother.
Played a very brilliant game with 5X yesterday - office lookalikes. We'd throw out a colleague and do our best to find a celebrity to best match that person. Highlights included the actor Giovanni Ribisi as Dave and David Hasselhoff as Mark Sheehan on a good day.
Some of the others are a little rum to mention. Raf - you proved the toughest, though now that I think of it Mark LaMarr would've done the job just fine. Never mind.
So the last week in words. Friday - work, home. Saturday - work, home, Apolcalypse Now. Sunday - work, then to Limerick. Monday - Limerick and inactivity.
Tuesday - Headed back from Limerick and to meet Fin, Dave and (briefly) 5X in Mulligans. The right night was had, with things taking a turn for the messy when I got back from the bar to find our Dave holding court with a semi-cute Aussie lass and her, frankly, less than attractive friend with a voice like George Hook and a face like, well, Captain Hook to be honest.
I bolted, figgering Dave'd be in like Flynn with the Australasian and I'd be forced to walk the plank.
Wednesday - To Dalkey with me for Owen's granny's removal and then home. At least that was the plan. No no, Lynn Greene had other ideas and it was into O'Reillys for Stella pints and many yarns with herself and Andrew. My word I was ill that very night.
Note to drinkists: Stella on draught is a far different proposition to its bottled equivalent.
Thursday - Yet more work interfering with my social engagements. Never fear, though, still subdued by my Stella experience I fixed my attentions on soft drinks in Kehoes with David and Julianne. Well, that was never going to last with those two sniping at me and, following a break of months, I was back stout a-drinking. Went down VERY well. Raf came in, and Emma and Trousers, and to the best of my recollection there were larfs aplenty.
Note to drinkists: Don't follow a feed of Guinness with a feed of Eddie Vomits' Chicken Burger with extra blue cheese dressing. What went down well at the time inevitably led to queasiness long into Friday afternoon.
Friday - Finally managed to take it to the min. Had a few beers at home with John and Pike and watched Rain Man. Domestically blissful. And tonight?
He'll want aleing, and I've already had other parties on at me for pints after work.
Do me a favour, don't come near me for a jar next week.
A) I can't afford it.
B) My body will die. No more Radge.
Post scriptum: Sadly finished Kitchen Confidential this week. One of the great books.