Saturday, February 11, 2006

Indecision (Hi Mrs Greaney!)

My oh my. It's a cold one.

Not much to write home about, really. Taking it to the min this week after a mammoth five-day-in-a-rower over last weekend. What pubs? Sugar Club - O'Reillys - The Globe - The Villager - The Hut - Foggy Dew. None of my usual haunts in there. Yeah it was all good. No silliness.

Half tempted towards the boozer tonight, as I veered away from Limerick at the last minute and stayed in The Pale. Then again no. Place to myself. Washing to be done. Cat to be fed. How gay am I?

Then again...

No! Must be strong. Though the lads ARE in the Stags... Maybe just for one... NO!!! Keep it indoors.

Then again...

Wednesday, February 01, 2006

Shomer shabbas!

Friends. Colleagues. Cohorts.

Living in a Fowler wonderland these past few days. Finbar Brady broke the news to me on Friday, and as he uttered the name 'Robert Bernard Fowler' down the phone line from Setanta Central he'll have become aware of the most pregnant silence this side of... well... to be honest I've no idea how to finish that sentence.

Stunning stuff though. I'm predicting six goals between now and the end of the season, and a new contract to follow. Mark it down.

Otherwise, more of the same from me really. Very quiet this last week. Went to Limerick to nurse myself back to myself last week, and took her handy at the weekend. Saw North Country with Julianne on Monday, adequate if unspectacular fare, before joining Messrs Fell and Lowenbrau (Richie and 5X to ye lads) in Grand Central on O'Connell Street.

I'm not one for the shiny pubs, but that's not a bad place at all. Had three fine pints of stout with the boys before making off into the night. It was foggy. And cold. Anyway, if you're heading that way I recommend you pop your head in the door and stay there and relax and get drunk. A fine pub.

What else? Hard to say really. Off again today, I'm pottering around the house to beat the band. All I'm thinking of now is tea and the football tonight. Oh. And Germany. Corporal Kenny's having myself and Johnny over in March for Paddy's Day. Y'know yourselves, multiple destroyedness will be at hand.

Heidelberg eh? Yeah I'll be having that. Apparently, the proprietress in O'Reillys will open up for us especially at 12 noon, feed us and then let the general public in around 3 bells. I predict stoic and fervent consumption of ales German, Czech and whiskey Scotch. Bury me near make-out creek.

What else? Julie will agree with me on this point - what's with The View? John Kelly's arts review show. Such utter, UTTER pretentious arse-wipes. "I was jost waishing for something to hoppen and then, y'know, the film jost loike peters out. Also I found the comera work to be both benoigne and roodimentary. I expect sooo moch besher from a director (no, wait) FILMMAKER of his standing."

"Yah. Yah. Couldn't agree more. Yah."

I've no problem with Kelly himself, you understand, but who are these people?