Good evening ladies and gents,
I must apologize to Ciaran for my grievous error.You see last time on here I said Ciara had a lovely dog, but failed to mention what a lovely dog Ciaran has as well. His name is Rollo. While I'm on the subject I would like to add that Lee's two cats are great,Keiths dog is lovely,you should see her when his dad does the dishes, and his two cats Whiskey and Garfield are adorable. Tomas' mom Mary has a nice dog that seemed like it was going to bite my face everytime I attempted to pet it.I hold no grudges though,he'd been outside all night and he doesn't know me very well.I like to believe that if he had the opportunity to really get to know me,that we would get along just fine,and he wouldn't have the animal urge to bite my face or neck. Having said all this,I have to say that as nice as all your animals are,and they really are lovely,that they all pale in comparison to my favourite cat fluffy. Just last week she had a cist removed from her liver,she's back and recovering nicely from what I hear,getting back to her controlling and demanding self.God bless her.
Anyway, England is lovely,all though everybody asks me how I'm finding Barrow(Nics town).They say 'so what do you think of our little town?' I say,with sincerity,'its great,really nice.' They say,immediately afterwards,'its a shithole.' But it really does seem nice to me. I went out for the first time Saturday with Nic and her girlfriends for a real Barrow night out. I told Nic I was going to get really drunk and make an ass out of myself in front of her friends. Guess what? I got really drunk and made an ass out of myself in front of her friends. I would have made you proud Lee. I was dancing with random strangers,unbeknownst to them.They had their backs turned. Apparently one big fat guy turned around and was about to punch me in the head(I was oblivious to this) but Nic stepped in front of him and told him to go away. And the leg was bent all the way to the floor.We sang Living on a prayer and summer of 69 again,and that horrible song by Peter Kaye.How many friggin times can they play that a day? It was a blast. We ended it at the chinese take away,munching on a curry and chips.Delicious.
I've also started the ol jobhunt.Can't pull a Melbourne this time.Work first,party later. Hopefully I can snag some barwork.Well,thats all for now,I'd just like to add that Tashs cats are lovely too.Especially her sweetheart of a grey cat.I miss the black cat.
Song of the week:A rare tie,between No ecstasy by The Constantines from their self-titled album and Bigtime by the Soundtrack of our lives from their brilliant new album Origins Vol.1.
Book of the week: 31 songs by Nick Hornby. A book of essays about the songs that matter to him and why.But the songs don't matter.Really its just an honest,funny brilliantly written love letter to music. If you get a chance please read it.
Quote of the week: 'you no good biscuit eating son of a bitch.' from Law and Order Criminal Intent.
Later Skaters:)
Wednesday, April 13, 2005
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
Journey to the Emerald Isle
So we flew into Dublin Wed evening and were met by my good friend and champion,Keith.On the drive to his place Keith asked 'Fancy a pint?'.And so it began.We picked up the lovely Ciara and headed to a nice pub in Wickalaw(forgive the spelling of all Irish places and names).There was great band playing covers,and I tasted my first pint of proper Guinness and fell deeply in love.We laughed and talked and when the band(the lead singer is a Garda you know) played them,we sang along to Living on a prayer and what may very well be the most played song in the world,Summer of 69.
Thursday morning we awoke and headed over to Ciara's,where her lovely mom prepared what has to be the best fry up in Ireland.And she timed it perfectly for the moment we walked in the door.God bless her.So we ate and sighed in ecstasy and talked and played with her sweet sweet dog and left for Dublin.Once in Dublin we watched the St Patricks parade or what we could see of it and soaked up the electric atmosphere.We wandered over to Temple Bar,the pub and party district of the city and found a place,whose name I can't remember,that sold good beer and played good music,and there we stayed,and danced and laughed and sang Hey ya.
Friday we waited with baited breath for the arrival of the french men,Lee.He was due at Keiths around 3pm so naturally he strutted in about 7pm.We hugged and laughed and headed back into Dublin to meet up with Ciaran and Tom and Ann Marie and a few of the frasier girls,and eventually we found them in another bar whose name I forget,and we shook hands and hugged and laughed and posed for photos and sang and danced and cheered and spilled drinks and bent the leg all the way to the ground and somehow never got thrown out.It was a night to remember.
Saturday we hopped into Ciara's jazz blue convertible and dorve up to Glenlough monestery and through the surrounding hills and towns,the sun was out and it was beautiful.We stopped into his excellent local pub,where aside from the Guinness storehouse,I had the best pint of Guinness of my trip to the country.We sat outside and watched families kicking the football around and soaked up the fresh country air and watched a couple of dodgy looking pikies get thrown out, spit on the pub door, kick the local dog in the ribs,mutter something unintelligible and speed off in a rusty red hatchback.Luckily the dog was a thick muscular little bull dog,so no real damage was done,nut it did put a gey cloud over our otherwise brilliant day.The bastards.That night we went back over to Dublin for the fireworks.We went out for a great tex mex meal where me and Lee ate far too much.Ummm,yeah,we'll each start with the babyback ribs,then have the steak dinner.Stop the press...say again?Fat bastards.Afterwards we managed to just catch the last five minutes of the fireworks,they were spectacular.Then headed for the pub and barely forced down a pint before heading home,where Lee put on the Pelican Brief and we crashed for the night.
Sunday,Tomas's lovely parents Liam and Mary were kind enough to let us tag along with them down to Limerick and Ciaran and Tomas's hometown of Ballyhahill.A quaint friendly place.We met up with Ciaran and went out to his local for a pint and a little conversation.There we met Ciarans friend Elaine.She had just recently shaved off her long curly locks for charity in the very pub we were in and raised a very impressive 1500 euro in the process.An incredible feat.We also met Ciarans uncle and chatted about Ireland and Canada and history.Monday and Tuesday Ciaran drove us down around the south west of the island,to Dingle and the Cliffs of Mohar and Killarny.I introduced him to the sounds of Joel Plaskett and he introduced me to the sounds of Paddy Casey.A fair trade I think.
Wed we caught the train up to Belfast and met up once again with Lee.We stayed at his beautiful home and met his lovely mom and had many bowls of her delicious Irish stew and met his beautiful cats,whose names I'm deeply sorry to admit,I can't remember.That night we went round to Lee's local Grace Neills,the oldest pub in Ireland according to the Guinness book of records.It was established in 1611,I believe.there we met up with Adam and over many pints remeniesced(that can't be how you spell it.) about the good ol days of Echuca and Oz and Beeker.It still makes me laugh til it hurts when Adam tells the story of Beeker taking the meet out of Paddys burger.Sorry Paddy.Hopefully Beeker doesn't have internet.
Thursday Lee drove us up to the north coast to The Giants causeway,a group of cliffs and rock formations thats hard to describe.Among the cliffs and along the walking path is a long rope bridge.While waiting to cross back over the bridge to the mainland me,Nic and Lee stood by and watched as a french guy slipped and almost did a header right over the side.As Lee would say ha he ha he ha,push bikes and garlic.I don't think he appreciated our laughter.
On the friday we left for Galway.On the way through Belfast Lee took us by a few cop stations/fortresses.I wanted a picture so as we came up on them Lee would say here it is on your left,get ready,I'd role down the window,there it is,go,go,and I'd snap a picture as we sped by.We were half convinced we were going to get pulled over and arrested or shot at by snipers.We must have looked pretty dodgy,a car speeding by a Belfast cop station with a camera lense stuck out the window.
Then we were off,to Galway and the big reunion.6 and a half hours later we entered the Galway city limits,the bee gees blaring from the car stereo and a back seat full of booze.It was a weekend I'll never forget, that went by far far too fast.
Quote of the week:'Those are Uri Gellers.He loves his spoons.Take away his spoons and he cries like a baby.Motherf£%$&*! spoonlover!'
Michael Jackson
from Bo Selecta
Thursday morning we awoke and headed over to Ciara's,where her lovely mom prepared what has to be the best fry up in Ireland.And she timed it perfectly for the moment we walked in the door.God bless her.So we ate and sighed in ecstasy and talked and played with her sweet sweet dog and left for Dublin.Once in Dublin we watched the St Patricks parade or what we could see of it and soaked up the electric atmosphere.We wandered over to Temple Bar,the pub and party district of the city and found a place,whose name I can't remember,that sold good beer and played good music,and there we stayed,and danced and laughed and sang Hey ya.
Friday we waited with baited breath for the arrival of the french men,Lee.He was due at Keiths around 3pm so naturally he strutted in about 7pm.We hugged and laughed and headed back into Dublin to meet up with Ciaran and Tom and Ann Marie and a few of the frasier girls,and eventually we found them in another bar whose name I forget,and we shook hands and hugged and laughed and posed for photos and sang and danced and cheered and spilled drinks and bent the leg all the way to the ground and somehow never got thrown out.It was a night to remember.
Saturday we hopped into Ciara's jazz blue convertible and dorve up to Glenlough monestery and through the surrounding hills and towns,the sun was out and it was beautiful.We stopped into his excellent local pub,where aside from the Guinness storehouse,I had the best pint of Guinness of my trip to the country.We sat outside and watched families kicking the football around and soaked up the fresh country air and watched a couple of dodgy looking pikies get thrown out, spit on the pub door, kick the local dog in the ribs,mutter something unintelligible and speed off in a rusty red hatchback.Luckily the dog was a thick muscular little bull dog,so no real damage was done,nut it did put a gey cloud over our otherwise brilliant day.The bastards.That night we went back over to Dublin for the fireworks.We went out for a great tex mex meal where me and Lee ate far too much.Ummm,yeah,we'll each start with the babyback ribs,then have the steak dinner.Stop the press...say again?Fat bastards.Afterwards we managed to just catch the last five minutes of the fireworks,they were spectacular.Then headed for the pub and barely forced down a pint before heading home,where Lee put on the Pelican Brief and we crashed for the night.
Sunday,Tomas's lovely parents Liam and Mary were kind enough to let us tag along with them down to Limerick and Ciaran and Tomas's hometown of Ballyhahill.A quaint friendly place.We met up with Ciaran and went out to his local for a pint and a little conversation.There we met Ciarans friend Elaine.She had just recently shaved off her long curly locks for charity in the very pub we were in and raised a very impressive 1500 euro in the process.An incredible feat.We also met Ciarans uncle and chatted about Ireland and Canada and history.Monday and Tuesday Ciaran drove us down around the south west of the island,to Dingle and the Cliffs of Mohar and Killarny.I introduced him to the sounds of Joel Plaskett and he introduced me to the sounds of Paddy Casey.A fair trade I think.
Wed we caught the train up to Belfast and met up once again with Lee.We stayed at his beautiful home and met his lovely mom and had many bowls of her delicious Irish stew and met his beautiful cats,whose names I'm deeply sorry to admit,I can't remember.That night we went round to Lee's local Grace Neills,the oldest pub in Ireland according to the Guinness book of records.It was established in 1611,I believe.there we met up with Adam and over many pints remeniesced(that can't be how you spell it.) about the good ol days of Echuca and Oz and Beeker.It still makes me laugh til it hurts when Adam tells the story of Beeker taking the meet out of Paddys burger.Sorry Paddy.Hopefully Beeker doesn't have internet.
Thursday Lee drove us up to the north coast to The Giants causeway,a group of cliffs and rock formations thats hard to describe.Among the cliffs and along the walking path is a long rope bridge.While waiting to cross back over the bridge to the mainland me,Nic and Lee stood by and watched as a french guy slipped and almost did a header right over the side.As Lee would say ha he ha he ha,push bikes and garlic.I don't think he appreciated our laughter.
On the friday we left for Galway.On the way through Belfast Lee took us by a few cop stations/fortresses.I wanted a picture so as we came up on them Lee would say here it is on your left,get ready,I'd role down the window,there it is,go,go,and I'd snap a picture as we sped by.We were half convinced we were going to get pulled over and arrested or shot at by snipers.We must have looked pretty dodgy,a car speeding by a Belfast cop station with a camera lense stuck out the window.
Then we were off,to Galway and the big reunion.6 and a half hours later we entered the Galway city limits,the bee gees blaring from the car stereo and a back seat full of booze.It was a weekend I'll never forget, that went by far far too fast.
Quote of the week:'Those are Uri Gellers.He loves his spoons.Take away his spoons and he cries like a baby.Motherf£%$&*! spoonlover!'
Michael Jackson
from Bo Selecta
Monday, April 04, 2005
Departure/Arrival
Hey party people,I apologize for the delay(and am especially sorry for making Muntz wait all this time).
So I shared the plane ride over with a couple of bare naked ladies.Two members in fact,the dark afro haired guy and the pudgy lead singer,who's actually quite slim in person.The in flight film was The Princess Diaries 2.And they wonder why incidents of air rage are on the rise.
Upon arrival I was met by a very small,very stern,very unhappy british customs agent who grilled me for 20 min and shouted at people behind me to stay behind the line.He asked me if I understood all the rules of my uk visa.I said yes.He said tell them to me.I said...ummm...yeah,ok I don't understand all the rules to my uk visa.The nice man that he is,he explained them all in very minute detail.I love customs agents.When I got to the luggage belt everyone else on my plane was gone and no baggage was on the belt.The security dude came over and asked what flight I was on.I said chicago,he said oh yeah,your bags are probably still back in chicago.The information lady confirmed it and they delivered them to my door the next day.So it was a bit of a blessing really.
Finally I was reunited with the lovely Nicola and we kissed and smiled and said hi and hugged and kissed and left the airport.Upon arrival at Nic's house I discovered Cathy was right.The english have very tiny fridges,no closets and no basements.On the otherhand they do make a mean cup of tea and have the funniest comedy show I've seen in years.Its called Little Britain and anyone who hasn't seen it, should finish reading this excellent journal then go watch it.Its on in Canada now,on bbc canada.It is utterly brilliant.Last night one sketch from the show,Lou and Andy,was voted britains greatest sketch comedy bit on the 50 greatest comedy sketches of all time.It even beat out Monty Pythons dead parrot bit(voted second place).
Before I talk about Ireland I want to thank some people for making our trip so incredible,I probably already thanked you in a drunken stupor,but just in case.I have to thank Keith for going so far out of his way for us.If it wasn't for you calling me up out of the blue in Brisbane the trip wouldn't have happened.Your an absolute champion.Thanks to Ciara for being so good to us,and thanks to Ciara's lovely mom for making us the best fry up in Ireland.I have to thank Ciaran and Tomas(my two irish brothers) and their families for everything.Thank you to Lee and his lovely mom for everything,including the best irish stew in Ireland.Get in,mother habbard,av it!And I have to thank everyone who made it to Galway,Ryan(my scottish bro),Kev,me ol china(come on Israel!),Matt,Dave(brilliant effort,mate)Anne Marie,Jo,Sharon,Ellie,Donnel.Hopefully I haven't forgotten anybody,if I have I apologize profusely.Ireland was everything I could have hoped for.I had the time of my life.I have to cut this short,times up,but I'll get back soon.I love all you guys.
Song of the week:Green and Red of Mayo:the sawdoctors.From the album Live in Galway.
Later skaters:)
So I shared the plane ride over with a couple of bare naked ladies.Two members in fact,the dark afro haired guy and the pudgy lead singer,who's actually quite slim in person.The in flight film was The Princess Diaries 2.And they wonder why incidents of air rage are on the rise.
Upon arrival I was met by a very small,very stern,very unhappy british customs agent who grilled me for 20 min and shouted at people behind me to stay behind the line.He asked me if I understood all the rules of my uk visa.I said yes.He said tell them to me.I said...ummm...yeah,ok I don't understand all the rules to my uk visa.The nice man that he is,he explained them all in very minute detail.I love customs agents.When I got to the luggage belt everyone else on my plane was gone and no baggage was on the belt.The security dude came over and asked what flight I was on.I said chicago,he said oh yeah,your bags are probably still back in chicago.The information lady confirmed it and they delivered them to my door the next day.So it was a bit of a blessing really.
Finally I was reunited with the lovely Nicola and we kissed and smiled and said hi and hugged and kissed and left the airport.Upon arrival at Nic's house I discovered Cathy was right.The english have very tiny fridges,no closets and no basements.On the otherhand they do make a mean cup of tea and have the funniest comedy show I've seen in years.Its called Little Britain and anyone who hasn't seen it, should finish reading this excellent journal then go watch it.Its on in Canada now,on bbc canada.It is utterly brilliant.Last night one sketch from the show,Lou and Andy,was voted britains greatest sketch comedy bit on the 50 greatest comedy sketches of all time.It even beat out Monty Pythons dead parrot bit(voted second place).
Before I talk about Ireland I want to thank some people for making our trip so incredible,I probably already thanked you in a drunken stupor,but just in case.I have to thank Keith for going so far out of his way for us.If it wasn't for you calling me up out of the blue in Brisbane the trip wouldn't have happened.Your an absolute champion.Thanks to Ciara for being so good to us,and thanks to Ciara's lovely mom for making us the best fry up in Ireland.I have to thank Ciaran and Tomas(my two irish brothers) and their families for everything.Thank you to Lee and his lovely mom for everything,including the best irish stew in Ireland.Get in,mother habbard,av it!And I have to thank everyone who made it to Galway,Ryan(my scottish bro),Kev,me ol china(come on Israel!),Matt,Dave(brilliant effort,mate)Anne Marie,Jo,Sharon,Ellie,Donnel.Hopefully I haven't forgotten anybody,if I have I apologize profusely.Ireland was everything I could have hoped for.I had the time of my life.I have to cut this short,times up,but I'll get back soon.I love all you guys.
Song of the week:Green and Red of Mayo:the sawdoctors.From the album Live in Galway.
Later skaters:)
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