Monthly Archives: July 2010
Who r u calling a geebag?
Yet another unscheduled trip to the hospital with Dirty Dave. Learning my lesson from dodgy A&E waiting rooms I took him to the Swiftcare clinic where for just €60 extra you get seen by a doctor, nobody tries to piss/puke/cum … Continue reading
I hate Facebook. There’s a very good reason why I’m no longer in contact with people I went to school with, worked with, played football with, might have known in some other way years ago. It’s because I don’t want … Continue reading
Faces
There are faces it’s easy to dislike. Lee Bowyer, for example, looks like he’d stab your babies. Brian Cowen’s is so blubbery and ugly, blugbery, that looking at it for too long makes you want to jab your eyes out … Continue reading
Reading slowly
I’m in a slow reading phase right now. Maybe it’s the summer and the warm weather making me drink beers in the evening which make me sleepy at bedtime but it’s disturbingly slow. Normally I could do a couple of … Continue reading
The hidden click
I woke up far too early on Saturday morning for a Saturday morning and then spent the whole day doing stuff instead of just sitting around. I had to do a bit of dog sitting. Well, more dog walking so … Continue reading
Words not required
Sent to me by a friend, this is truly quite awesome. Click for big. [photopress:wang.jpg,thumb,pp_image]
World Cup final
There will be beer. There will be football. There will be some betting. There will be shouting. There will be at least one atrocious decision from Right Said Fred ref. I’m hoping for goals, red cards, brawls, moments of sheer … Continue reading
And now what?
You have no idea how pleased with myself I was the moment I woke up this morning. In my dream I had written the first three paragraphs of a story, about a strange village in a valley, which I really … Continue reading
Go Bulls!
Bulls, unlike dolphins or owls or owlphins, are totally awesome. Not quite as awesome as anteaters but then that’s hardly a shame on them. Bulls just don’t stand for any nonsense. Especially from Spaniards, and I think that’s something we … Continue reading
The leg pisser
There was a bloke when I was in school who thought it would be funny to piss on other people’s legs. We would be standing around in a group, as you do, smoking, giving out about stuff, and Diarmuid, for … Continue reading
There was a bloke when I was in school who thought it would be funny to piss on other people’s legs. We would be standing around in a group, as you do, smoking, giving out about stuff, and Diarmuid, for this was his name, would sidle up behind somebody, get out his chopper and just start pissing down his leg.
Those who could see what was about to happen always kept their mouth shut because, frankly, it was quite funny.
Quite often Diarmuid would take a bit of a hammering, and anyone who remembers school pants and how they might stick to you if they got damp will surely be on the side of his wet-legged victims.
This leg-pissing extravaganza went on for about two weeks and it got to the point where nearly everyone, when standing around, would make like an owl to ensure they weren’t being crept up on.
Even after he got in trouble with the headmaster, alerted to his antics by the almost never-ending stream (no pun intended) 0f boys who had to ask to go home and change because they’d been urinated on, he didn’t stop. In fact, he got braver.
One day he made the fatal mistake of pissing on Jimmy’s leg. Nowadays Diarmuid has no idea when he’s pissing but the bag ensures his own legs remain dry.