Monthly Archives: April 2009
I hate the NCT
So you can get penalty points for not having an up to date NCT now? What a load of old cunt. Here’s how the NCT works. You go in, they put your car through the whatsit, some fucker from Eastern … Continue reading
Randomia
Easter Monday is just like a crap Sunday. It’s fucking grey today. After days of sunshine and warmth the real Ireland hits you smack in the mouth. I’ve just bitten my thumbnail too far. Nail biters will know the pain … Continue reading
Good Friday
It’s almost time for the annual lock-in at Ron’s. Check list: Smokes, check. Wallet, check. Keys, check. Phone, check. Underpants, check. Habanero peppers to convince Dirty Dave to eat after 14 pints, check. Noseplugs for when Dave vomits copiously all … Continue reading
Cutting edge crime
The crime writer wrote the book which the weary traveller picked up the airport. It was bog standard stuff, some serial killer was going around the place, killing women and tying ribbons on them. ‘How’, thought the Crime Writer, ‘can … Continue reading
Cheerio, budgeteers
I have decided the best way to cope with the increases in taxes on booze and smokes and my money is to fuck off out of here for a couple of days. It’s only a crime to transport large amounts … Continue reading
Combinations
We all know of the splendiferous effects of Guinness. It makes you drunk and fills you up like a four course meal. The next morning, well, there’s the unbearable blackness of pooing. Dark matter spews forth in a torrent, gushing … Continue reading
A minor annoyance
“I’m gonna set up a blog, Twenty”, said Dirty Dave, little chips of headboard still stuck to his cheek. The doctors say they’ll fall off in time, or become permanent fixtures like those things on Seal’s face. “Is that so?” … Continue reading
Serious medical question
If you injected your scrotum with botox would you end up with a ballbag that looked like it was hewn from the finest marble and polished to within an inch of its life?
The loneliness of the Dave
Dirty Dave went away for a few days this week. He said it was to get away from the relentless depression of the recession. He went to Kerry somewhere. Checked into a B&B and unwound. He read books, he took … Continue reading
Dirty Dave went away for a few days this week. He said it was to get away from the relentless depression of the recession. He went to Kerry somewhere. Checked into a B&B and unwound.
He read books, he took long walks, ate well, drank well. He avoided all newspapers, TV reports, radio bulletins and anything which would remind him of the perilous state of our finances.
He had time to think, to reassess what was important in his life. He came to conclusion that his life was worthless. That he was no good for anyone or anything. The crushing loneliness, which he was able to repress when in Dublin and surrounded by his friends, was overpowering.
Alone in Kerry, alone in a B&B with floral curtains and a cheap MFI Wardrobe, with a chipped sink and wonky shower, a small portable TV and a teasmaid, he realised that living was pointless. Drink only hid the problems, it didn’t make them better.
I got the call at around 7pm last evening. His checkout time was 12 noon. There was no sign of him. The lady in the B&B became worried and knocked on the door. There was no answer. At first she thought he was out and had been delayed but eventually she decided to use her master-key and try the room.
And that’s where they found him.
His attempts to seal up orifices had failed and somehow he had managed to superglue his face to the headboard. It took them 3 hours in Tralee General Hospital to remove it.
Stinking Pete is on his way down to pick him up.