Scary stories

We're on a major halloween party carousel at the moment. Our eight year old had a party yesterday and has two today, with a 1 hour window in between for trick or treating. She went to yesterday's party as cinderella's ghost. My lady wife works in the health services, primarily with primary school children. Yesterday she asked all of the kids who came to see her what they would be dressing up as for trick or treat. the response was as follows;
6 witches
4 vampires
1 werewolf
1 priest.
I see Twenty Major is getting into the halloween spirit, sporting a rather scary looking eye injury, picked up in the line of Damien Rice dissing. I think he's just trying to look sufficiently ugly so John Kelly won't feel threatened, and will invite him to talk about his new buke. Let's be careful out there!

What do we like about the Irish soccer team

1. They make the Irish Rugby team look competant.
2. They work wonders for the self-esteem of crap soccer nations
3. The press conferences
4. errrrrr....ehhhhhm.......ehhhh (actual transcript of some of the press conferences)

I'm scared

I'm not a "new man" type. I generally keep my personal feelings to myself and I am careful about who confide in. However, there are times when the nerve endings become so frayed that discretion goes out the window and the bottling up of emotions brings with it a steady increase in pressure, until the decision about who to tell and in what circumstances goes out the window. A safety valve somewhere takes over before the overproduction of bile and the endless anguished sleepless nights lead to a screaming mental eruption.
I'm really really scared that there is a slight slight chance that England might win the Rugby World Cup. Not because of any xenophobic, political or historic reasons. Not because they wouldn't deserve it if they did win. Not because it could have been us (it couldn't). No.
We could never watch or listen to rugby commentry on a british channel ever ever ever again. Ever. Even if England were beaten. Even if England weren't playing. Even if it wasn't international rugby. Even if it was under 10 rugby. So when George Hook loses what remains of his marbles or Trevor Brennan quits punditry to take up a career in poetry, or the creeping paralysis finally reaches Neil Francis' face, we'll have to watch sailing on Setanta.
Sorry, just had to get it off my chest.

Finglas Sweet Factory Explosion

Cherchez la ooompah loompah?

Eddie Eddie Eddie....

Does anyone have the address of yer man/woman that whacked the Pakistani cricket manager? We might be able to start a whip around. Now there's a contract negotiation involving the Irish manager which might prove more popularwith the Irish fans.

world leaders

Listening to the news on my phone while on the bus to work this morning, I heard the latest about the very scary situation which has developed in Myanmar. While the powers that be in the region get all muscled up, "world leaders appealed for calm". Which is great. I'm just wondering exactly who these world leaders are and how you qualify to be a world leader? Do you have to pass any exams, do a degree in world leadership? Do they have business cards with their title on it? What are the wages like? If anyone can let me know more about it I'd be very interested in it. I reckon that world leadership mioght be just my kind of thing. I have five kids ranging in age from eight to twenty, so I know all about appealing for calm.

I still have had no takers for Ellie's Pay it Forward project. Does no one want a gift from a future world leader?

Exposing the soft underbelly

The wonderful Ellie posted the following on her website yesterday. who could pass up such an offer?
"There is a book written by Catherine Ryan Hyde called "Pay It Forward", that has been adapted into a film starring Helen Hunt and Kevin Spacey. The premise is simple. When someone does something nice for you in any way you don't pay that person back, you "pay it forward" by doing something nice for another person. It's kind of like the gift that keeps on giving.So here's how the Blog world version of PIF goes.

I'll send a handmade gift (although my gift may not be made by me I will try to make it personal to the recipient )to the first 3 people who leave a comment on my blog saying they want to play. The only thing you have to do in return is "Pay it Forward" by making the same promise on your blog. If you don't have a blog you would be on the honour system of paying it forward in your day to day life. Of course, eventually I'd need your address to send you your goodies, so you'd need to be willing to part with that."
So let me know if you want to partake.

English (Ireland)

What is this English (Ireland) option when picking a language on your computer? does it mean that the spellcheck will recognise feck? That "so it will" or "so it is" at the end of a sentance does not get underlined in green? Does "Bertie" get automatically get capitalised? is an e automatically tagged on to the word "shit" does it automatically italicise "British justice" when it sees it in a sentence?
Does it always insert the word "crucial" into the phrase "another match for Irish soccer team" ?

recategorisation of sports

Ok, time for drastic action. We were always crap at soccer, give or take about four or five years since caveman started kicking stuff around the cave. We've become crap at rugby relatively recently and our international success at other sports are due to a combination of fluke, doping, fixing competitions and novenas. We need to push for the acceptance of some of our natural hobbies as international sports. Irish dancing in the Olympics, A ballad singing world cup, embassy-mooning test matches, sub-contracting marathons, slagging endurance events, Porter swallowing three day eventing. Fleadh-ceol-on-a-single-pair-of-underpants survival competitions. Lowest score in song contest contests.... Come on Ireland where's your fucking pride!

back to business

Busy week. New guitar students vary in age from 12-72, youngest and oldest indistinguishable in terms of enthusiasm, which is nice. Back to gospel choir practice on wednesday, big turnout and everyone is in great form. Our choir leader has had a trying summer. She holds joint Canadian-US citizenship, married to a man who has lived here since his family moved over from Germany when he was 8, but has never changed his german citizenship. So now they are making noises about deportation. Number one son is surfing and making chicken nuggets in Oz. Number two son, is demonstrating in Rossport, and the remainder of the clan are back to school, piano, flute, ballet, Irish dancing, swimming, jiu jitsu and music. The dog has a cough and the cat has furballs. Oh, and we're not allowed to drink the water..............again!

not getting any easier

In the absence of some of my coaching colleagues, I actually had to show my underage team the dynamic stretching excercises I wanted them to do. Wasn't able to get up from a chair yesterday without crying quietly to myself.

scary stereotypes

Coming home over the quincentennial bridge Monday evening haven't dropped my 16 year-old training ninja to ninja school, I saw a Mercedes directly behind me driven by a woman who was plaiting her hair while she drove.

it's not getting any easier

Another birthday last weekend, got a package from eldest son on his year in Australia. He sent me a wooly bobble hat to rub in the fact that our summer is over. He's using the money earned from making chicken nuggets wisely, having bought a bicycle and a surfboard so far. My eldest daughter (13) bought me the new Harry Potter book and my darling wife bought me a couple of shirts with the lines in the direction that are supposed to disguise the fuller figure, (haven't had my bum pinched by any nubile young wans since, so i don't think they're working). Watched some of the rugby of late and have come to the following conclusions:
Connacht should be in the world cup instead of Scotland.
Munster should be there instead of USA
France are cruising without firing on all cylinders yet.
Ireland sould move their training base to Lourdes immediately.

To hell or to Connacht

I notice that Connacht's match v South Africa doesn't merit one sentence on the RTE News website. As someone who marched on IRFU HQ to save Connacht rugby a few years back, It's sad to notice that nothing has changed. Anyway, Well done lads, a great performance

small world

Overheard by boss while shopping in Tesco yesterday:
Glenamaddy customer"We're from Glenamaddy, Do you know it?"
Cashier " no, I'm not from here"
GC"It's about 40 miles away, you head towards Tuam Where are you from anyway?"
C" Australia"
GC "We went to Stockport near Manchester for two weeks. I'd hate to live there. We're going out to a cousin who lives in San Francisco in January. he's gwetting married. Michael McManus. you might know him?"

Vague Reminiscences of the Ayurts Festival

Back at choir practice with the fabulous Galway Gospel Choir last night ahead of our street gig tomorrow lunchtime (1.00 city centre). One of the altos is doing a thesis on the Galway Arts Festival since its inception in the late seventies. In terms of the origin of the Festival in my age riddled mind it was the product of a very active and enlightened students union in UCG which just outgrew the College and spilled onto the streets of the city. Initially the gig scene in Galway improved dramatically, with the likes of Eric Clapton, The Jam, Dr. Feelgood, Graham Parker and the Rumour being brought to town. The small cafeteria on campus became Smokey Joes by night and was the most exciting venue in town, bringing the many of the major players in Ireland's exploding folk scene to town. My first experience of a real gig was with a couple of mates from school (we were fifth years in the Jes), when we played support to a semi-professional Stockton's Wing in the late seventies.Then a natural momentum developed with the enthusiastic leadership of the likes of Ollie Jennings, Pat Boran et al. The gigs outgrew the small terrapin building and moved into the newly built main lecture theatres as Clannad, De Dannann, Freddie White etc did their thing. The Druid Theatre, itself a product of the energy of a group of students, started to shine. At some stage the burden of major funding shifted from the college to the drinks companies and private sector companies and thus it lost its best kept secret status and began to attract non Galwegians. In the early days it seemed to be very much about giving Galway people a chance to be wonderstruck by doing things that shouldn't really have been possible. The main venue was a large tent set up in a field owned by the college, as the city didn't have anything like enough suitable venues for what was being undertaken. The memories aren't clear, it's difficult to put dates on performances, but I remember the buzz on the streets, the anticipation in the weeks before the Festival. Contacting all your friends (by land-line) if you had seen something spectacular that shouldn't be missed. The sense of wonder and amazement like the one that you felt when you saw and heard your first fireworks display.

basting in Brittany

Working away on the lobster colour, on the third book having read candlemoth (not bad, but heavy on the social commentary of 60s usa and the new book by the kite runner guy (sorry! been a lot of rehydration required on a regular basis) excellent! Hitting mid forties does bring it's fair share of anxiety ( as does trying to type with a fucking french keyboard!!). Top of the pile include getting burnt everywhere except that white line directly under the moobs where the sun can never go. Also wondering whether tha thing is a freckle, a mole, or something iffy. There is the anxiety about the extra trips to the bathroom during the night, until you remember that you're drinking more before bed. The worst so far though is the realisation that the thatch is definitely thinning, as the severely scaldy top of head prove...

Noah it's not funny

I'm not one to complain about events outside my control but...for fuck's sake this weather is scary. I was down town yesterday buying some gifts for some Breton buddies we're going to visit and it rained so hard that the rain bounced up eight feet in to the air and fell again! Wet twice by the same shower. It wouldn't happen when Michael D. was minister for fun, I can tell you. Arts Festival my large spotty Arse, it's a fucking ark festival we need in Galway! Bridges washed away in Leenane in Fucking July! I've noticed that Twink has been getting some work subbing on radoi stations of late. I'm not saying that I have categoric proof that both events are related, but why doesn't the country's main crime outer Paul (scumbag) Williams get up off his arse and investigate that? Anyway, I'm off to Carnac for a couple of weeks, which will probably be even wetter than here.

praise the lord and curse the bride

A mini version of the gospel choir (eight of us)sang at a wedding on friday. The wedding was at one so we arrived at 12.00 to do our lalalalalalalalas and tune up and all that stuff. Church started filling at 12.50ish 1 o clock came and a couple of us wondered whether we would have time to climb down for the choir loft and run to the loo and be back in time to sing as herself walked up the isle! We decided to stay put as she could arrive at any minute. Imagine the consternation as we waited until she finally arrived at twenty five past fecking two! As you can imagine the high notes were no problem at all. the service ended at three thirty and we all rushed down the spiral stairs as fast as our tightly clenched knees would let us and speed shuffled to the nearest pub as fast as our scuffed soles would let us. The locals must have raised a few eyebrows as the orgasmic shrieks emanated from the loos!

multicultural city

How Galway has changed over the years. When I was growing up in the sisties, Galway was a big town. Everybody knew you or someone belonging to you and they certainly knew the skeletons in your family closet (be very scared Kav). If you saw a coloured person in the street, they were a Cazabon (who had and continue to have a better Galway accent than 99% of Galwegians). I was looking through the classifieds in a local paper yesterday and came across an advertisement by a qualified shaman! Now there were feck all of those around when I was in short pants (on holidays last year). There was also an ad for a thigh massage.