Well, you can't have expected much bloggery from me given the month that's in it, can you? Mercy no. Too much happening. It was all happening.
We had all manner of nights out and confustications, including the Christmas Party in Galway (exactly the same as last year, substituting Raf for 5X), the return of 5X and ensuing madness, random nights in The Long Stone and The Palace Bar and the usual this and that.
I could get into the wheres and what have yous of the various nights, but just look back at last December's postings. It has been exactly the same.
Oh, but something quite different. The impending marriage of Emma Cuddihy and Owen Cowzer. Mark it down. The fourth engagement of the year and the one that has everyone in the Cuddihy household talking hotels and receptions and dresses and what not. And Cowzer as a brother-in-law? Mercy. That'll be something. At least I'll have someone to watch football with at Christmas.
(Anyone fancy meeting me in Synott's for the Liverpool game at three?)
The honours list:
Night out of the year:
Some dingers in '06, not least Brain Day and Paddy's Night in Germany and my birthday pints and Anne's 30th and Emma's birthday too, but the night out of the year has to go to the random evening back in March with the girls and Dr. Fell where we went to Thomas Reads and I ended up sleeping on the couch of the owner of Setanta in Princes Street. They may take the rent out of my wages.
Person of the year:
This has to go to 'Twenty Quid,' a legend in her own time.
Beer of the year:
It's Stella for the third year running.
Botched sentence of the year:
"So... eh... what did the... eh... d'ya... eh... fancy... eh... SHUT UP... no, go on... wha?" Me. To Dave.
Unmitigated bastard of the year:
5X. How DARE he move to Paris?!? And THRIVE, no less! Still, I did enjoy our reunion last week, when I summed up the six months for old Radge while he's been suckling wine on the Champs Elysses - "Since your defection my life has changed utterly. Or at least it did until last week, when everything went back to exactly the way it was when you left."
Pub of the year:
This one goes to the Stag's Head, seeing as it housed three splendid nights in Brain Day, our Anne's 30th and Melissa's birthday the following week. All successes. A mention at this point must go to the brothers Skehan, and the...
...few days away of the year:
Dingle. July. Sweet Jesus but it was a dinger. Gillian, hopefully reading this in China while sipping her Irish coffee, will attest that it was a drunken affair, given the reams of text messages that floated their way to the County Cork from Dick Macks and Murphys and O'Flahertys and McCarthys and all the pubs of the best town in Kerry. If not Ireland.
Newcomers of the year:
Joining the world of Radgery this year were.... Gillian, Val, Dockers, Richie's mate Dave, the American lad in the pub that night that looked a bit like Jack Black. Oh. And 'Twenty Quid.'
Welcome to ye...