Well look who it is. Radge. In all his winter glory.
It is still winter you see. Mother Nature's on some sort of massive acid binge, mistaking summery willowyness for undeserved inclemency. It's not fucking on. Just got myself drenched travelling back to Foxborough Central.
Anyway, I'm back. Back blogging, back in Dublin, back waiting for the cat to shuffle his way back after his own little holiday. Two weeks he's been away now, just like myself.
To catch up, started my holidays there the week before last. The first couple of days were glorious, and I celebrated that and my freedom by drinking in alehouses from Chapelizod to, well, the city centre.
5X (we drank to the man in Neary's on Thursday week last, many larfs as he'd say himself) has left the country, rumour has it he's starting in the Wall Street Institute today after basking in beautiful Chartres - French countryside - for the weekend. He says there's a fair degree in inter-male kissing, and not being a lover of interracial homoeroticism I expect him to steer well clear of that particular chestnut.
Hopefully he'll see his way past the Parisien bureaucrats to a dwelling well suited to him and Gersende.
Me? I've been in Dingle. Three nights last week to eat and drink and sleep and wander as I wished. If you get past the American tourists and souvenir shops (thankfully very few thereof) then it's the perfect place to, well, be.
I won't go into too many details of my stay (saving those for other purposes), but what I will say is that O'Flaherty's serves THE best pint of Guinness known to man. It's settled. Pun intended.
They even gave me a FREE stout. Beat that.
Things that I don't give a shit about:
1) Ireland beating France in the Heineken Cup.
2) Munster qualifying for next year's Eurovision.
3) Wayne Rooney's foot.
4) Joe Duffy's beard.
5) The Home Office in London (though I have enjoyed a mild titter at their expense).
6) The price of petrol (petroleum is murder, people).
7) Whether 'The Da Vinci Code' is any good.
I'd also like to voice my disapproval of that AIB ad with the kid running through his hometown spouting some second rate spiel about being United or being City or belonging or whatever. Community spirit me hole!
Has anyone seen our cat?