Thursday, February 01, 2007

Lost in Swords.

I just emailed Cowzer and said a blog is long overdue, so I feel duty bound to perform for you, my adoring little minions...

First of all, let me inform the world that the Eagles are recording a new album. There's no need for that. I fuckin hate the Eagles, maaaan...

Anyway, sat here on my day off watching Scrubs and wondering what the bedevil to do with myself for the afternoon. Chances are I'll sit watching the same news reports on Sky Sports News until I head townwards to meet Ms Denise of Farrell for food and an inevitable pint in Neary's... Twas always thus, and always thus shall hopefully be...

It has been a time chockful of boozing and working and looking forward to my upcoming two weeks off. Bound for Bantry with the aul fella on Monday, there's no better place to restore me to rights, seafront views and country surrounds and all that nonsense. It's like Withnail And I without the sodomising uncle and central heating. Beautiful.

Much of my life of late is unbloggable and troublesome. Lots of tos and fros, craziness on an unwholesome scale. 20o7 has already shaped up to beat 2006 comprehensively in terms of upheaval and possibility. January, for me, has been anything but dull.

Deliberate vagueness aside, on the insistence of Richie I'm bringing back things I don't give a shit about this week...

1) Gin.
2) Tonic.
3) Broken washing machines and showers and cold, nay, ARCTIC bedrooms.
4) Owning my own property. In my own time!
5) Matching socks.
6) Condescending ticket inspectors.
7) The fact that I can't find my watch.
8) Cheers. Prefer Frasier.
9) The service in Pacino's.
10) Guffawing suits.

Cheese of the week: Red Leicester.

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