Sunday, October 28, 2007

Swoon.

Fair play to me, I went all of the afternoon and early evening without knowing the score of the Liverpool v Arsenal game. I don't think I've ever staved off curiosity to such an extent. The highlights were due on RTE Two at 8.3o.

At 8.15 I made a trip across the road to Spar, and as I approached the fear hit me that the radio in the shop would give the game away, pun intended. With much trepidation I ventured inside to buy my phone credit and copy of Empire, and was fully prepared to block out the blast of the wireless with a series of bleats and la la las at top volume. It didn't come to that though. They were playing Journey instead.

Why didn't I just venture to the pub to watch the game? The usual. Three nights on the gargle had given me sense. Thursday was the table quiz in Slattery's, we came 11th or something, then it was Bowe's on Friday under peer pressure from Dave, Kev, Kev, Jay and Jonathan, fellow slaves to Setanta Towers.

I wasn't about to miss a rare chance at ale with Kev Murphy II - as distinct from the non-fat fat lad - et al, so merry was made. There may even have been beer spilled. I disremember. A great night with a bizarre coda in McDonalds, but that's mine for the knowing.

Last night we hit O'Reilly's for our Emma's birthday drinks. I made some inane attempt at water but the gods prevailed and I had a few lager beers. Just to fit in, you understand.

Anyway, today I rose at the ridiculous hour of 8am - 9am in old time - watched the very worthy 'A Guide To Recognising Your Saints,' hit town to buy Emma's belated present, then it was '28 Days Later' and avoision of the Anfield result, before the highlights, sushi and that lovely orange tea drink.

Thursday, October 25, 2007

Broken.

It's all terribly regular, isn't it? Life, like. The tedium's getting to me, every day the same.

8.31am, get up, brush teeth, check email, shower, get dressed, forget keys, retrieve keys, leave flat, 9.07am, walk to bus-stop, get the 121, people-watch from on high, alight bus, purchase latte while getting loyalty card stamped, work for 9.45am, check email again, 10am, start work, copy and paste and copy and paste and copy and, lunch break, paste and copy and paste, 6pm, exit work, admire commuter love subject, get 38 home, make tea, check late football news online, go on MSN, watch TV and/or DVD, 11.30pm, bed, read for a bit, set alarm and...

8.31am, get up, brush teeth, check email, shower, get dressed, forget keys, retrieve keys, leave flat, 9.07am, walk to bus-stop, get the 121, people-watch from on high, alight bus, purchase latte while getting loyalty card stamped, work for 9.45am, check email again, 10am, start work, copy and paste and copy and paste and copy and, lunch break, paste and copy and paste, 6pm, exit work, admire commuter love subject, get 38 home, make tea, check late football news online, go on MSN, watch TV and/or DVD, 11.30pm, bed, read for a bit, set alarm and...

8.31am, get up, brush teeth, check email, shower, get dressed, forget keys, retrieve keys, leave flat, 9.07am, walk to bus-stop, get the 121, people-watch from on high, alight bus, purchase latte while getting loyalty card stamped, work for 9.45am, check email again, 10am, start work, copy and paste and copy and paste and copy and, lunch break, paste and copy and paste, 6pm, exit work, admire commuter love subject, get 38 home, make tea, check late football news online, go on MSN, watch TV and/or DVD, 11.30pm, bed, read for a bit, set alarm and...

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

Doom.

Ireland manager Derek Davis' future looked bleak after he saw his side beaten 1-1 by the indomitable Cypriots at GAA Park on Wednesday evening.

The home side, so impressive in beating the Germans by a score of zero to zero on Saturday, were overwhelmed by their illustrious opponents, conceding to Papadopolous Okahopolis late in the fourth quarter period.

A late strike by Matt Damon failed to quieten the GAA Park boo-boys, who had turned out in their tens to watch a stagnant Irish performance. Midfield maestro Danny DeVito, so influential against the Bavarians, was a shadow of his diminutive self, seeing pie after pie sail harmlessly to touch as his incredulous teammates could only yearn for the anonymity of the Premier League.

Davis is now expected to return cap in hand to the warming bosom of the RTE couch and Thelma Mansfield, with the FAI bigwigs crawling back to Eoin Hand, a man who almost nearly took Ireland to the brink of the Simod Cup qualifiers in 1973.

Sunday, October 14, 2007

Territorial musings

I braved Flannery's. I did, you know. It was Thursday night last and the tenth anniversary of our college debut, so those of us that could make it headed along to the Bleeding Horse for pints and pints of good old lager beer.

It was topmost fun, my only regret being that 5X was lounging in Paris and Lynn was taken up with matters educational. Myself, Michelle, Ollie, Denise, Marko and Owen in the same seats where we celebrated Cowzer's 21st, oh, EIGHT years ago this December. Sweet divine mother of Michael it's been a long time.

As the evening turned to 9.30 or 10 we decided to flog the horse and head for the Great Satan on Wexford St.

In fairness to it, it wasn't too bad to start. You could walk unflustered from the front to the back and sit and drink Baby Guinnesses to ones heart's content. Granted, the bouncer was a bit of a prick and gave Owen some ill-deserved ire, but that was quickly forgotten as we got ridiculous.

That was all very well until I got up to leave, around 12 or 12.3o. I was greeted by a crowd the size of Croke Park, barring my exit which seemed a 100 metres away or thereabouts. Countless whoopses and sorryses later I was eventually spat to the street, like trying to get that last impossible Airwave out of the chewing gum wrapper. No good, but I dusted myself down, squoze out the beer spilt on my trip through the throng and headed for home.

In terms of craic, it was in my top five nights of the year, and the hangover wasn't so bad as to warrant drugs.

On Friday I managed one last effort at work, seventh day on the bounce, and came home to where I currently sit. It's Sunday morning and I've barely left since - just a trip to the friendly local butcher yesterday - so I've been sitting and drinking the lovely tea given to me by Dorte and contemplating everything and nothing at once.

Crap telly last night once the fitba had finished - Reid gave a masterclass, it's generally agreed - but I did happen on the 100 Greatest Stand-Ups on E4.

It occurred to me that Lee Evans is roughly as entertaining as a pile. Ditto Al Murray. If you're looking for blatant cultural differences between us and the English, it's encapsulated in the fact that they seem to lap up this shouty, lairy, butch bollox while we tend towards the genius that is Dylan Moran. And he is a genius. And he only made number 14 or something. Harumph.

The Big Yin topped it. Fair result.

Tuesday, October 09, 2007

Velvet

I had a Wispa today. It was nice, like a posh chocolate carpet, but I don't really know what all the fuss was about. Where's the Fuse bar, which combined raisins and krispies and well, ok, that was a bit crap.

Or the Secret, the spindly delight with a sullen soft nougat centre?

Gonzo! That's what it is! Nowhere to be seen.

I'd love a 5-4-3-2-1, or a Telex, or a Mint Crisp. Oh wait, they still sell those.

Anyway, confectionarial musings aside, I'm blinkin' exhausted. Fierce tired. Out the last three nights in a return to drunken Radge.

Apparently there's footage of me singing 'Don't Go Breaking My Heart' at Emma Quinn's new palace down beside the Royal Canal. Her sister Cara was Kiki to my Elton, and I hope to never see this monstrosity in my living room. I refer only to myself of course, to my recollection Cara had a lovely warble to her.

The party was class, from Emma's mam applying concealer to my knee (true) to the hot snacks and cans of beer (true and true again).

Sunday saw us in Bowe's for the post mortem, while Aisling Eile held me rapt in Nearys and Kehoes on Monday with witticisms and wonderings on life itself. Fun fun!

Tonight I rest, but only after gracing Johnny and Pike for what was a POWERFUL cup of tae.

Galuck.