Bring me back of stick of rock and a box of Australian gone-off crackers. And some Marmite.
They're mad into the Marmite, the aul Aussies. It's a terrifying food stuff, the taste of which I cannot describe in these pages. Myself and Lynn were forced to partake on a trip up the Victorian coast all those years ago. Four to be exact. My, how the passage of time hurtles on apace.
Anyway, Ms McKeigue begins her journey this Friday at some ridiculous hour of the morning. Quite how I'll cope without my usual dose of mock disappointed "Ah TONY!!!" is another matter entirely. Unchecked, my ego could run amok. I hope she's happy to have THAT on her conscience.
Anyway, what am I up to?
Well, I'm off today again, sat at the computer and doing anything on God's Earth to avoid writing this poxy Vodafone proposal. If anyone has any ideas on how to best cater for a TV/Movie portal on both 2.5G and 3G, incorporating video, quizzes, polls and stellar yet snappy journalistic interludes, please pass them on.
I'm rather stuck.
Still, when all this has come to pass and we're toasting our achievement, you'll see a happy Radge.
Took her easy last week, didn't visit the pub once. Had a few on Sunday night in John Mulligan with Messrs Maher, 5X, Ding Dong and Roche, closely followed by the bauld Fred, encamped again in Mother Ireland after his own travels.
Then Monday was a dinger, the Long Stone-Doyles combo doing for me, and causing the mother and father of all hangovers yesterday. I'm still not right. That Kev is a divil once he gets them in.
I won't harp on about the gargle, after all ye all KNOW I drink (thanks for that 5X).
What else? I've been mulling over an article in Saturday's Indo just gone. David McWilliams - a man I respect due to his intolerance of hyperbole - has written a book about how Ireland has become the great imbiber. No news there. But we're also eating more than ever, "obsessing about food", having sex more than the hornier than thou Japanese (unfortunately I seem to be bringing the national average down on that score, if you'll excuse the pun), taking more drugs than the Aussies (who love their aul E tabs) and gambling more - due in no small part to Johnny Ward and Tommy the cleaner, doubtless.
Interestingly, however, we're also working harder than we've ever done before. More and more people are taking their work home. They'll probably hit the books after a night on the tiles, coked up to the nines. Not only that, but we've become obsessed by our health. The gyms and swimming pools are overrun by the same hedonistic drunkards as the night before.
"We will feed our hangovers with carbohydrates but then, when fully rehydrated and sober, regard mashed potatoes as the Devil's spawn."
What a thing it is to be Irish. We're burning the candle at both ends and loving it. Sounds about right. Ireland's decadence is alive and well. Now all we have to do is overtake the Greeks in terms of shagging and we will truly be living the new ancient Rome, paradoxically.
Loving it I say.