Saturday, May 26, 2007

All God's hours.

I've no time for idiots. You know the type, they put '-ers' at the end of a first name to signify to some kind of chummy familiarity.

For instance, I heard this one in the office the other day. "Hey Neilers, did you get that promo I sent over to you?" It made me grimace, like a particularly sour sweet.

Yes yes, I'm a miserable bastard. In fine spirits though, about to drink with 5X for the first time since a particularly cloudy session at Christmas. Then it's on to Blanchardstown to acquaint myself with two friends of Dorte's, over themselves for a debauched weekend.

It never stops.

Otherwise, I hope you're keeping away from yourselves. I was bitterly disappointed by Liverpool's defeat on Wednesday, and then proceeded to get over it five minutes later. I never get too upset about the 'fitba', you see, we'll take it next year.

Finally got my hands on 'Boxer,' and tickets to see The National again in November. Cheers to Ollie for that one. It's a spectacular album, with stand-outs 'Brainy,' 'Mistaken For Strangers,' 'Slow Show' and the masterpiece that is 'Green Gloves.'

I need a haircut. But when? Working all of God's hours!

Friday, May 18, 2007

Soft furnishings a flashpoint

Blimey, did some amount of shopping yesterday for the new flat. Lamps, cushions, an iron, a kettle, a George Foreman grill, cutlery, a bin, laundry basket. Not only that, but I know once I get back to Dublin I'll realise I forgot the most important item.

What was it? Shit shit shit.


A hammock. I need a hammock. Will pick one up in The Pale. Sorted.

So it's the sunset of my two weeks off. Feels like ten years since I last trod the boards of Setanta Central, so much having transpired since. Got the new place, moved in, over and back to Dorte's and the pubs visited like The Bank and The Stags and Cassidys and O'Briens and even Coppers and the Corkonian ones and Limerick with its own stresses and strains, such as the visit of the dreaded aunt.

This woman is a pokey, shrill and dismissive shrine to materialism and apathy. Tuesday in her company was a Tuesday sadly spent.

Still, she was gone by the time I awoke on Wednesday, and I have done nothing of note since, bar scan every football site for news of the final next week and annoy herself in Xerox with constant emails containing my thoughts for the day.

That all comes to a halt tomorrow with my return to Formula One duty, but I don't really mind. There's always value of a weekend in the Towers, and off again on Monday to get my house in order, both figuratively and literally. Actually, only literally.

Cheese of the week: Blue.

Things I don't give a shit about this week:

1) Over compensating.
2) Bluster
3) Leaky roofs. Or is it rooves?
4) Woks.
5) Stale bread.
6) Romanglements.
7) The film 'Last King Of Scotland.' Overrated.

That's me for now.

Monday, May 14, 2007

Pades of shink.

Hello, you lovely people.

My time off is closing up rapidly, seems like many, many moons since I last trod the boards of Setanta Central. I'm back there on Saturday when the new routine kicks in. No more quick ambles up the quays for me. No no no, I'm bussing it again from my lair on Charleville Road.

Still, can't complain, it's working out well. This living alone lark was always going to be a tough one to negotiate, but I've done alright so far. Granted, I do miss Johnny robbing my beans and Aisling replacing them, and the general vitriol fired at me daily for the last ten years by the great oppressor, but I'm surviving.

I'll remain a frequent visitor to Forbes Quay, not wanting to lose the run of myself and all...

Otherwise, it's been the best of times. A lot of fun has been had in the recent times, can't smile wide enough. Had dingers of nights on Friday and Sunday with the lads, while Saturday was a bit good too (though the live music idea in La Terrazza was lost on me, the food and company was more than acceptable!).

By the way, I need the following items for the flat:

An iron.
A kettle.
A George Foreman grill.
More cutlery.
A wok.
Tinned food in case of war.
A bomb shelter.
BADLY need broadband.
Some lamps.
A laundry basket.
More air fresheners.

Can anyone help?

Sunday, May 06, 2007

With my green gloves...

Rightio, here I am. Glorying in the thoughts of my new home on Charleville Road, just off the North Circular. A dandy little shell of a flat that I hope to make my own for many moons to come, can't be having all this moving about at all...

Also, it's back to the old neighbourhood, kind of, I'm a Northsider once more and wearing a proud, proud face...

The packing and unpacking will be less than pleasant, but worth it in the finish.

Otherwise, I've just been, well, around, really. It's already been a boozy weekend. We'd Ronan's 30th birthday celebrations in Na Fianna on Friday, a top night enjoyed by all. Myself and Dorte decided against a late one and taxi'd back to Blanch for some Tuborg - to the uninitiated it's basically repackaged Carlsberg - and whiskey most enjoyable.

The head wasn't great yesterday but I figured there was no harm in meeting Richie for a swift one in The Bank while watching the Manc derby. Well that turned into the Liverpool travesty against Fulham and onwards and onwards to inebriation in the company of Etaoin, and later Gary and Johnny Ward.

I reckon I knew the one that was one too many, and surpassed it bravely with three or four more.

Anyway, no more of that for a while. I'll be financially crippled after the deposit and what-have-you, and could do with keeping the beer at bay for a bit. At the start of two weeks away from Setanta Central too, which pleases me greatly.