No Spaces

It's happened. And I am devestated. I've finally been caught by that damn cinema who was giving me free cinema for the last god knows how many years.

For those who don't know the story; I signed up for that monthly free cinema thing years ago. In between never having money in my account, they sent out a second card, stating my first card was going to go 100% defective within the next whatever.

Few months later they cancelled my account due to me never actually having any money. Thats when I wondered did they cancel the original card, or just the replacement card?

Two years of free cinema later me and Mac are walking into said cinema, intent on seeing The Wind That Shakes The Barley. Each time I go to the cinema, there's that horrible feeling that this is the time they'll cop on to the fact I'm getting free cinema and yoink my precious free cinema card from me.

Jokingly I say to Mac: 'Dude, if they don't go for this you better get ready to run cause they're gonna come after you, and me, and everybody until they track us down! You're an accessory now Mac! It's all on you! I'm gonna tell them YOU made me do it!'

And up we walk to the counter. Two seconds later I'm giving some crap excuse as to why I haven't got my new card 'It's over in England' or something like that. Then the annoying girl (who was only doing her job as Mac would say later) took my card off me, the bitch, THEN, she went and starts making a call to bloody head office to see is my account still open. Which isn't a good phonecall to be making seemings I've been getting free cinema off them for god knows how long and probably owe them a couple of hundred euro.

Thats when I look at Mac. 'We uhh...we, should realy be going about now.' The girl is deep in conversation with head office on the phone, it was just like in The Fugitive, when Juliane Moore takes Harrison Fords fake I.D. off him cause he just saved that kids life and she wants to know why! WHY DAMNIT WHY?!?.

The girl is still deep in conversation, probably planning my death, and Mac's beating. I look back to Mac and he says 'So ya wanna go?'. I nod, and we make our getaway. There's cinema ushers and security everywhere! Security cameras rolling, but we move gracefully out of the cinemas and into the crowds. THE PERFECT GETAWAY!

Only they have my card, my photo and all my details. I expect a letter within the week.

Got in at nine. My dad was there to pick me up which was cool. Just before we reached the Artane roundabout, we saw a mass girl brawl spilling out onto the road. About three girls were kicking and punching lumps out of one another while another ten tried to pull them apart.

Home sweet home.

What a day! Everybody I know over here is from work, and seemings, I was working today, if I didn't actually go to work, I'd have nobody to hang out with on my birthday. So I went to work!
What a way to spend a birthday!

I was hoping to keep it quiet, not really at all bothered by big birthday parties or cards or presents or any of that bollocks anymore. I hadn't counted on some smart ass I.T. guy actually programming in 'Happy Birthday to you' when you swipe in for a days work on your birthday. So everybody knew about my birthday. Even some random call center girls who happened to be hot who I'll happen to chat up at some stage in the future. Maybe. (I won't).

Damnit. I had a point to this post when I started it two minutes ago. And I've only had...three beers, well four. I'm sure the point will return by the time I've finished. I'll just keep writing till it does. (Althought I'm fearing the only point was that there was a fourth beer in the fridge).

Work was fun anyway, I got tons of attention from the hot presenters (some of them female), and got tons of text messages in from random viewers. Which is cool in a way. Why spend 25p on a text message greeting to somebody you don't even know? I salute those random people telling me I'm hot and shouldn't be single. It's a crime.

I got a card and a muffin from the crew. I'll eat that tomorrow - HUZZAH! Fuck I'm sure there was a point to this blog. I wouldn't have started it without. I haven't even drank much. Lately I've noticed I'm forgetting stuff. I'm drinking my brain away. What was it the other day I couldn't remember? Damn I've forgotton.

Anyway! I got in from work and decided I should at least have a beer to celebrate my birthday. Not counting the one I had on lunch break in the local pub. Then it turned out Ed Wood was on TV. I fucking love that movie. It's unreal. Ed Wood is like a motivated me. An amazing movie, if you haven't seen it, go rent it, and hope Donal doesn't log onto MSN while you're trying to watch it. I wasn't going to fob Donal off in favour of a movie though. He's gets press passes you know.

I'm back in Ireland tomorrow. To be honest, England's wearing off on me. I'm going for broke over here. I've a meeting with the owner of the company when I get back about some ideas I have, if they don't work out, I'm not gonna stay at this job very long. Unless I start getting laid.

I hope to see whoever's reading this at some stage over the week. Early plans: Huge piss up on Friday. I won't be texting, I've messed up my o2 account and I'm not gonna buy credit. But anyway, I'll see you for beers. Only other plans are watching football and writing my new movie. It's gonna rock.

Anyway, I got in and drank the can of carling I knew was in the fridge. Then I decided to spoil myself with a huge bottle of stella that belonged to somebody else. I knew there was a few other cans in the fridge, but nothing I'd drink; boddington's draught bitter. Fuck that. Then I went back to the fridge and low and behold. A tasty can of Carlsberg hidden behind the Utterly Butterly and the frozen lasagne. And I didn't own any of them.

FUCK! Two seconds from pressing publish and I remembered my point! Check out the forecast for the week ahead in Dublin! What a load of shite! It's the most depressing thing I've ever seen. I knew I didnt lok at the weather for a reason. This computer is about to crash right now it's about a hundred words behind what I'm typing, It just corrected the spelling mistake I wrote about a minute ago. This is sweet I'm lookign at what I tuyped a few minutes ago./It's unreal. It's not gonna save I'm gonna lose all this! That's probably a good thing.

Forecasts not much better for over here so might as well be at home. Thunderstorms likely for tomorrow evening. Flights at 8! Ooooh! Scary!

Right this computer is about a minute from crashing. My cans finished.

GET IT ON! So was invited out for a big gay night out the other week. At first I thought one of the gay guys in work was inviting me out on a date, but then it turned out everybody was invited. I hate those kinda dates.

Did I survive the night without turning gay? Catching gay disease as they say in medicine?

Anyway, showed up looking like shit, having slept on that sofa in London the night before. There was four of us. Me, Chris, Colm and Adele. We met up for a few beers in some pub down near the gay quarter of Birmingham, I drank Becks from a bottle as they only did half pints, and seemings I wasn't in Cannes I wasn't in the mood for their guff. I ordered the becks from the ugly bar girl who grew fonder of me each time I returned.

We left and went to...well, I don't know the name of the place, it's not important. What's important was the seven foot tranny standing at the door dressed in poka-dot lycra handing out free drink tickets in exchange for ten English pounds.

I've not spent a night in a gay club before, but there's not much diferance between them and a normal nightclub. Like your hetero-club, there's lots and lots and lots of guys and very little women. And you have no chance of scoring the women. You get absolutly no attention and get very very drunk as a result. There's too many people dancing and everybody else seems to be scoring besides you. Only in a gay club, the people scoring are all guys. Also, your friends.

I also got no attention from the gays, which was annoying. I mean, I have an ego to think of. I'd at least hoped that if heterosexuality didn't work out (and its not) I could at least fall back on my own kind. But no, nothing. A grab of the ass. Yes, more then I get (lets be honest here) per year from women, but nothing substantial, nothing worth any change. I'm gonna stick the heterosexuality thing out. It's better for all concerned. Besides of course, women.

I kept drinking until I was the only person not scoring, then realised my free drink glass had disappeared. Then I waited around till my friend was ready to leave and ended up passed out on his sofa. His housemate offered me his bed the next day when he went off to work. Apparently I was like a paraplegic, only capable of moving an eyelid. Holy crap, I spelt paraplegic right.

Davids review of a gay club: Too much dancing, not enough reason to be there, but the free drink for a tenner was sweet.

Chances of going back: Not until I have a girlfriend I don't want anybody trying to steal from me.


Token picture of some girl David has no memory of chatting up, to show David isn't gay.