And I've got to get myself, back to the gaaaaar-den....
I'm having Joni Mitchell this year, or more to the point the song that is either called 'Stardust' or 'The Garden,' not sure. As I sit in Radge Towers set to compose my review of the year, I'm in musical form. Currently playing is 'White Chalk' by PJ Harvey's album of the same name. Jesus. YouTube it. It's a lesson in ethereal majesty or some such nonsense.
Anyway, on to business at hand.
Album of the year: Close call this, my CD purchasement has taken a serious downturn this year, but unsurprisingly The National's 'Boxer' takes it from Radiohead's 'In Rainbows,' just about. Every time I hear 'Green Gloves' I wish it was the first time again, when JW gave me a listen in the office back in the summer. Got no work done that day. Come to think of it, got no work done most days.
Film of the year: As opposed to my musical profligacy, my DVD collection is getting out of hand. I've narrowed it down to a dead heat between 'Once' and 'Into The Wild.' The former restored my faith in Outspan, aka Glen Hansard, in a little gem of a film with great songs and an all too fleeting loveliness. Also could swear I saw 5X's old place on Mountjoy Square in one scene. The latter is Sean Penn's best creation, about Alexander Supertramp's travails as he tries to get to Alaska and leave disgusting material decadence behind. The bear scene at the end is hard to shake.
Worst film of the year: PS I Want A Lobotomy.
On to the personal...
Surprise of the year: Radge? An educator? Surely not. Yes though. This I year I returned to the South Circular Road to teach Sports Journalism, and realised an unknown ambition. Finished now, bar these pesky corrections, it was a hell of an eye-opener.
Weekend of the year: Westport for Ollie's birthday is up there, but I have to hand it to three weeks when myself and Johnny got drunk as LORDS between Friday afternoon and the early hours of Sunday morning. Cowzer and Kenny put in stellar appearances too, but it was myself and Titface that stuck to the cause and got immoderately bluttered. See the 'Lech' entry for details.
Night out of the year: January 2nd, when myself and Richie decided on a quiet few in the Long Stone. What started out as a discussion on an unnamed project ended up in Q Bar with Chinese Chris and his mates ("ah stop it Chris, you're always at this lark") and the most unfettered dancing this side of 5X in his souped up heyday. Lord. The birthday deserves a mention too, but for sheer abandon it was Chris Night '07.
Newcomer of the year: Many, MANY this year, including Mad Mandy who told me she loved me after one date, Apparently Too Tall Elaine, Brian and Mark May and Darren who joined the Setanta throng and not to be forgetting Angel, Faela and the Bob Dylan poster which seems oh so long ago now, Kenny's bird 'Ken,' Aisling Eile and her troupe of Corkonian lovelies, and Dorte with her little blue one and whiskey rocks and general goodwill towards little old me. However. 'Newcomer of the year' goes to Dave Delany for the third year running, though Dockers came dangerously close this year.
Kev Murphy of the year: Well, there are two... Work Kev and El Tolteca Kev. If they meet the universe will most likely collapse unto itself. There's no separating the two in terms of champness though.
Drunken falling over of the year: Outside of my flat after phase one of my weekend of the year.
Dickhead of the year: Yer man in work who ignores me every time I say hello, probably because I don't wear a suit. I just really dislike that lad.
Satan of the year: F**** C*o***. Do the maths.
Belle of the year: Belle.
Pike of the year: Pike.
Nar of the year: Nar.
Wedding of the year: The only one, which was Vik's in Galway. It was another cracker of a weekend, and I've just the 17 or 18 to contend with next year. Between myself and Mirabilis, we could start up a consultancy on wedding attendance. Suppose we're just at that age though.
Lunch of the year: Myself and Dave and the aforementioned Mirabilis in Burger King there last week. For no particular reason at all really, I just enjoyed my Angus Burger. Also the hot water bottle lunch with Aisling in Limerick. Thankfully she laughed.
Fernando Torres of the year: Fernando Torres.
Book of the year: 'This Book Will Save Your Life,' by AM Holmes, loaned to me by our Denise.
Embarrassment of the year: The Austrian I met in McDonalds, Catarina was her name, circa Hallowe'en. It was in the bag and I fucked it up royally in a style known only to me over my lovelorn years of nothingness. Made a great story for the lads though.
Fadings of the year: Too many to mention, I'm an absolute hoor for heading off before midnight these days, and have been known to go whole weeks without boozing. Only one thing for it, I'm off to Johnny's to get destroyed.
What else? Moved in on my own this year, ending ten years of Johnny's own brand of utter distaste on a daily basis. Happily his campaign of hatred remains and I seat myself regularly at his side and take the abuse like a man. Verbals only, by the way. I've always said we're not interesting enough to be gay. Meanwhile, Anne and Emma have done nothing to separate themselves in the 'Sister of the year' stakes for the 25th year running, Nancy's with the folks and watching Discovery Channel into the small hours every night, I'm missing this year's Christmas Party (hence the early review) and 2008 will be a dinger. Finally....
Champ of the year: Radge. Self praise is great praise.