Sunday, January 23, 2005

'Jesus Christ Cuddihy'

The towel is in my grasp and I may as well throw it down. If Blog Wars was anything but a fleeting pub semi-concept followed by inertia absolute, I'd have been KO'd by 5X's latest entry at (sorry lads and ladies, should've caught it while it was flyin') ... That would've been the end of old Radge.

If King Lear, Game Cubes and marionettes are your thing (as they are mine) then this is the blog to beat all blogs. May his swell never run dry, may his cup always overflow, cos when he's empty-headed the results are treeeeemendous.

Enough sycophantasisation.

I'm in Limerick, tending to the broken ship that is the Cuddihy-Devane clan. I won't go into it, save that my head is melted and not in the good way. Families ha? Dublin has never seemed so sane.

And then there's Dublin. Had to get me out of there and all, that land of confusion and tumult. I'm being deliberately non-specific here. All I can offer is that discretion has been the mother of fuck-up after fuck-up lately. Depressing you yet?

Still, it's a time to look forward. Hopefully getting paid this week and Sober Janaury will soon morph into a frenetic February. I've let the side down on the gargling front, tightening my belt and clearing the head you see. Now, all that's clear is that being foggy of skull and dizzied with the drink is clearly the way forward, you clear on that?

Someone get me bolloxed.

As for Liverpool, 5X said it all in a text message after we got rogered by Southampton: Jesus Christ Cuddihy.

Yip.

Monday, January 17, 2005

The Pat Kenny fanclub...

Suggestions from Julianne on the fine art of chatting up women:

You can talk about...

"...your love of dogs, Pat Kenny, how you've never been to Donegal, why Italian is a beautiful language, why hockey is a strange sport, Pat Kenny, how you've always underappreciated what a good programme the Liffey Laughs is, your secret love of ballroom dancing, Sean Og O'hAilpin, your fascination with snow globes, Pat Kenny, red wine, how you wish your were born in the Victorian age so you could wear nice dresses, London, jigsaws, Pat Kenny, why you hate the gardai, Gordon D'Arcy, Kate Hudson, the fact that people eat liver freaks you out, The Violent Femmes, small feet, the fact that Laura on RTE 2's ID really fancies Shane the sports guy, Pat Kenny, Sabrina the Teenage Witch, Ryan Tubridy, Soccer AM, Galway, how you wish you were in a musical."

Take it down lads, you'll never go barren again.

Monday, January 10, 2005

They've broken the Kop...

I don't think much of the latest FA Cup draw, which pits us against the mighty AFC Bournemouth if we can triumph over Burnley. Of course, it's now primed for one of these lads to do us up the arse before they themselves are shot down by Yeovil in the Fifth Round.

Supporting Liverpool isn't easy.

Throughout the last week or so, I've been looking forward to a seeing the papers and the football websites, hoping we've finally taken on either Morientes or Anelka. What do I get today? We're linked with Darren Huckerby.

Darren fucking Huckerby.

This boy couldn't get his game in successive Coventry, Leeds and Manchester City teams. Is this how far we've fallen??? Damn you Gerard Houllier, damn you David Moores. You've broken Liverpool.

OK, I'm overreacting. There's no way they'd even think about the likes of Huckerby, a third rate, overweight David Connolly-alike. But it says a lot that it's even conceivable to some bored hack in the teamtalk.com office.

Away from transfew windows and unrealised potential, I've very belatedly fallen for the last Pearl Jam studio album, 'Riot Act.' Really close listening delivers subtlety and a darker tone than they've managed in the past. Trousers has a point, 'You Are' is a hidden gem. 'Bushleaguer' is bollocks though.

They're a band, no, THE band of my youth, thrown away in the last couple of years for more sophisticated sounds. Fuck it though, you always go back to the ones you love. I'm also having Nick Cave's 'The Lyre Of Orpheus,' if not so much 'Abattoir Blues.'

In news of my life, I'm broke. Off to Limerick this weekend and hoping to keep out of the spotlight. I'll make my temporary exit from public life at the Olympia on Thursday. Paying to go and see 'Alone It Stands,' which I could have seen for free last week.

Life's a lot like that lately.

Wednesday, January 05, 2005

Here we are. Gone.

Oh by crikey I'm shockin' tired so I am. Serves me right, says 5X to me leaving work last night, "pints so" and so to the pints we went. And went. And went again.

Nah, I took myself off only after a few, but it was the culmination of quite the New Years. It was spent in Lucan and stellar craic was had with the Trousers and Emma and Aaron and Jill and sundries. We put a fair dint in over 130 bottles of Miller, Warsteiner and Stella, not to mention some green or blue cack. And champagne.

There were plenty of sore heads around, I don’t mind tellin’ ye, but we drowned them out on New Year’s Day as Chelsea trumped us. Again. Through Joe Cole. Again. What a nippy little bastard that lad is.

Christmas itself was Christmas, plenty of food and family and fights. Can't go wrong. Honourable mention to the matriarch, who I recently found out has been reading up on my misdemeanours. Don't worry mother, I, ahem, make most of it up.

And so to follow the lads' respective leads and give my best of the year 2004.

Best hootenanny: The 27 pubs of Dingle, July.
Honourable mention: Brain Day. August 13th/14th.

Hero of the year: 5X, for surviving the flat they called Wonderland.
Honourable mention: Dave Maher, for flying the coup and loving it.

Villain of the year: M*****a W****e. The worst person I have ever met.
Honourable mention: The cat.

Film of the year: Before Sunset.
Honourable mention: The Bourne Supremacy.

Best football moments: Liverpool 3-1 Olympiakos, Stevie stays in the summer.
Worst football moment: Though I didn't know it at the time, signing Josemi.

And the year was notable for: Deaths, break-ups, more break-ups, Stella, Ryans, Villager, Dingle, the train to Kerry, only puking once, scotch for breakfast, Dave's exit, 5X joins Setanta, Cowzer's use of textbook and, of course, 30 Foxborough Court (despite Johnny's best efforts).