First off, a heartfelt 'welcome home' to Julianne. She's holed up across the road in the Trend building in her own little marketing suite. It's very red and full of newspapers. Which reminds me of a crap joke from my childhood that I'm not going to tell here.
Anyway, Setanta will never be dull again.
In the world of Radge there's little tumult but still tales to tell. Painted my bedroom carpet the other night, not one bit fucking pleasant.
That'll have been the stout, as myself and Johnny and Skehan and Aaron cheered on Liverpool Football Club past the Blue-shite (Chelsea? Everton? It's all the one. To a degree) and into the FA Cup Final.
I could reportedly be heard for miles and miles around threatening Owen Cowzer sexually, but he may rest soundly in the knowledge that I'd rather stick Cassius a vat of sulphuric acid. Emphatic enough?
Speaking of Cowzer: I was taking an amble through the town yesterday when, much to my surprise and all of a sudden, I was drinking pints of lager beer in the Stags Head. There's no gargling like an afternoon gargling.
Then today I strolled into a meeting that never happened in Setanta Central, hopped on a DART to see the sea, back into town surrounded by chickenheads ("d'ya see Home And Away? It was deadly it was. Kim got takin teh hospitil") and then forth to get me some new brogues.
They're nice enough. Dark green. Like my bedroom carpet.