No Spaces

2006-09-27T20:44:00.000+01:00

BLAST OFF!

1...

2006-09-24T16:52:00.000+01:00

2

2006-09-21T21:11:00.000+01:00

3

2006-09-18T17:33:00.000+01:00

4

2006-09-13T16:39:00.000+01:00

5

2006-09-10T19:32:00.000+01:00

Stand-by

2006-09-04T22:45:00.000+01:00

Getcher 'No Spaces' Off

2006-08-23T23:35:00.000+01:00

This site is now closed. Good bye.

Getcher 'Blog Post' On

2006-07-27T02:58:00.000+01:00

Well SWEET JEEBUS! Here I've been for the last two days, without internet access, worrying I've said something stupid whenst drunk about me being in a whorehouse. Not realising, shit half of you have probably been in a whorehouse already. Not even thinking, man, I fucking love the fact I've been in a whorehouse. And realising, jeebus, I didnt even make it half as clear how much I wanted to be with that hot tall blonde whore called Nicole who'd only been in the city a week. In fact, I'm just enjoying saying the word whore. It's a great fun, especially when you have need to say it. Whore. Say it. It feels so....good to say. Whore. Like in referance to actual whores. I guess when you call random girls whores (and you're not having sex with them) it could be bad. Not that I care.

Damn I should asked her out for drinks. Then wooed her and asked her to marry me just so I coulda wrote a book called 'I Married a Czech Whore'.

Jeebus that woulda sold itself.

Anyway I'm writing this post from a work computer. A friends work computer. Nikki's. So there's probably a good chance i'm too drunk to figure out how to drunk delete all this shite and she'll find it. Or else somebody else in work will find it and I'll get the sack, which I wouldn't give a shite about. Anyway, I'm watching Ed Wood again, it's by far Tim Burtons Best Film, it's up there with One Fine Day as far as films you can watch without worrying whats going to happen to the main character.

I highly recommend both films.

Hello Nikki.

Gecher 'Stripclub' On

2006-07-24T05:20:00.000+01:00

Fucking gee-eyed. Back in this internet/pub cafe. 6:10 in the morning and about to fuckin; collapse. No fucking endorphins left in the head, not as bad as I was the last week in Ireland where I was gee-eyed, but fairly fuckin bad along. We went out for booze tonight, about two we all jumped in a taxi headin to Goldfinger nightclub on recommandation from Paddy, the taxi driver (big huge fat fuck of a guy) says its expsnise and recommends a place called...jeebus I dunno Janey? Fuck knows, we stop off at a palce called Suger and he rings the doorbell. Go down and there's some hotties in there with their clothes on and teh place costs a fortune. I mean if Godgingetr (fuck yis I'm not correcting my spelling) is expensive then I don't even want to know. But we head in anyway, turns out its not even a strip club it's a bleedin whorehouse, all of them are up askin us for rides, well dodgy. Can't speak for the rest of the crew I was with but I didn't go near any of them, altho there was this amazing tall blonde up chattin to me for ages. 'It's my first week in Prague' she was saying to me, lyin her gee off but jaysus, I'll be completly honest, for 2000 krones I woulda banged the bleedin hole off of her. And I'll be even more honest with yis, I'm sorry I didnt! AHHAHAHAHAHAHA.

And ha.

Ah well, I'm broke right now with hopefully enough money to get home, so I'll catch you gee bags later.

Ehhh...gaaay!

Gecher 'Prague' On

2006-07-22T04:39:00.000+01:00

It's 5:29 in the morning.

I'm in a pub/internet cafe.

Me and my friend have been at a free bar since 3 in the afternoon. (We're shitfaced)

We're with some homeless dude.

We have NO FUCKING IDEA HOW TO GET TO OUR HOTEL.

We've just ordered more beers...

Getcher 'Getaway' On

2006-07-06T14:31:00.000+01:00

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.

Getcher 'Dublin' On

2006-07-04T01:49:00.000+01:00

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.

Getcher 'Birthday' On

2006-07-03T04:57:00.000+01:00

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 Your 'Big Gay Night' On

2006-07-03T03:55:00.000+01:00

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.

Get Your 'David and Mac's Trip to London' On

2006-07-01T03:26:00.000+01:00

London was sweet. Managed to make my bus and sleep for most of the journey. Was cool seeing Mac over here, had a great laugh. Spent the day walking around all over the place. Seeing all the differant squares and stuff. I kept asking Mac annoying questions which he answered patiently. He was a brave and valient leader. Getting his Tube on to the max. Went to Leicester Square and Lindsay Lohan was there premiering her new movie. Wasn't sad enough to try and wait around to check her out but one day I hope to be the kinda of sado who does that. Was cool though, me and Lindsay, getting our London on to the max. Here she is takin photos of herself Dave R stylee, we're a match made in heaven. Same birthdays and everything. Just like Mac and Bee!

Anyway, after that we spent ages trying to find a decent place that makes sandwiches (nowhere) then went to some Grad show that was on. Lots of cool shit around, robbed tons of postcards so expect to see pretentious artwork on your hallway floor soon!

Then we grabbed a burger in the Burger Shack, singing to the B-52's love shack. Sweet burger. We were wrecked by then so we called it a night, I went out to White Chapel on the tube to meet up with the friend I was staying with, Martin. Knew him from Wolves so was great seeing him again. Had a few beers in some pub that had a tiger mounted on the wall. And instead of dimming the lights for last orders the hot bargirl grabbed drumsticks and banged against the the tin shades over the lights. Cool. Also kinda scary. Slept on the sofa after talking bollocks to Martin and his girlfriend Evanne who's name I've finally spelt right! Huzzah! Hey Martin!

Met up with Mac next day at 12ish. Saw the tate, saw big ben. Got some cool shots under the London Eye. Man Blogger just ate half my post. Anyway was sweet. Got to see a bit of Notting Hill. All in all a good trip, just wish I had more then 27 hours to see the entire city. Legs were walked off of us.

PHOTOS NOW!

Me at some square place. I dunno.

Outside the tate. And a plane in the sky! Ooooh, arty.

Macity Mac-Mac Mac!

Uhh, I think it's St. Pauls Cathedral, I wasn't really paying attention.

Mac has more photos of which to show thee. And possibly more stories. I'm knackered so therefore my brains not working the best. Slept on sofas two nights in a row and still hungover to fuck 24 hours having finished drinking at last nights big gay night out. But that's a story, for another night!

Get Your 'Londillion' On

2006-06-28T03:29:00.000+01:00

About to head to bed in preparation for London, just topping off some toasted cheese goodness to ensure my dreams are tripped out to the max. Cheese dreams are about as far as I go into exploring halucinagenics. Holy crap I think I spelt that right!

The BBBQ in Derby was cool at the weekend. Started off fairly rough; showed up and my friends idea of a party is him, his girlfriend and his parents. His parents had been kind enough to go buy beer. Four cans worth. It was less of a barbeque and more a plate that was on fire. I was ready to hit him.

Thankfully the parents fucked off and some single girls arrived but they were too preoccupied with not getting food poisining to be any fun. I did what any of us would have done. I got fucking shitfaced. Dragged them to a pub and we got to see some English fan try and teabag another English fan who was passed out. I especially liked my line spurring him on "I've got the camera if you've got the balls!".

I have no plans for London anyway, I'd love to see the Spaced house but honestly, it's just a fucking house and I'm lazy as fuck. I'll probably just follow Mac around and hope he doesn't catch me drinking constantly.

Chances of me making my bus tomorrow: 27%

Get Your 'Travel' On

2006-06-23T15:29:00.000+01:00

Exciting travel news my friends! Well for me anyway. Heading up to Nottingham (of 5-1 ration in favour of women fame) on Sunday (to not avail of it's nightclubs and pubs and it's 5-1 ratio) to go to a BBBQ which should be cool. Then on Wednesday Mac and me are getting our London on which is going to kick ass in a most rocktagious way. I've only ever driven through London, and not even the center so I'm looking forward to that. Only there till 6pm Thursday so it's going to be a fun filled few hours. Gonna see the Tate, gonna see Big Ben, and hopefully, gonna see the Spaced house. Allll right.

Then, July 3rd I'm back in Ireland for a week of beer, beer and beer. And don't forget the beer! AHAHAHAHAHA. And ha. Will be having a night out for my birthday as well at some stage which most of you will probably miss due to Poxygen. Try and get a day out in the pav, drinking cheap beer and annoying Jewish girls. Who was with me that time? Was that Matt and Eoin?

Can't spend too much money that week cause at the end of the month I'm helping a friend shoot a wedding video. In Prague. Which is going to rule. Gonna be getting my Goldfinger on as recommended by Sneaky P.

After that there's a trip up to Newcastle for a presenters wedding reception early August and then down to some place for some shit festival called Rockinbeerfest with a bunch of bands I have never heard of which I won at a table quiz. Then I'm gonna try and not go anywhere for a while as I really need to buy stuff like, new runners and like, maybe actually buy a wardrobe for my room instead of just having all my clothes in piles on the floor, or like, actual food.

Anyway, see yis all in a week! Huzzah!

Get Your 'HC' On

2006-06-19T19:26:00.000+01:00

Me and my housemates Ollie and Ian being twats around The HC!

Get Your 'Mornings' On

2006-06-17T18:00:00.000+01:00

This weekend I've been living like other mortals, getting up at 6 o clock in the morning to go to work. Just to help out some big titted blonde in work I don't even fucking like. Since secondry school, I don't think I've had to get up early for more then a day. So a weekend of them is going to be painful. Life for me has been pretty much 2 in the afternoon till 4 at night for the last few years. Basic review of early mornings: Fucking. Painful.

The biggest problem is my body not realising it's awake. It's like it has a set routine for when certain parts of my body turn on. Literally. My brain awakes, obviosly, when I wake, at 6 in the morning. But, not fully cause I'm tripping around cables and bumping into things with the camera for the rest of the day for the rest of the day. See, I typed 'rest of the day' twice, my stupid brain is still not awake. Well..it's either that or the alcohol.

My eyes sting me till around 12 when they realise that 12 is about the time I get up at. At the very fucking earliest. My nose is off till later in the day, not realizing I'd appreciate some fucking oxygen to try and keep me from not collapsing.

My social skills are non existant. Especially, going around telling people I don't really know I've come up with a movie idea based on me and the girl I've switched shifts with called 'Kill Jill'. Murder is generally frowned upon by people you don't know.

The worst time is about 10 or 11, when my penis thinks it's about time for morning glory. And let me tell ya, morning glory is made for being in bed. Not when you're trying to walk around a television station. Boners are generally frowned upon by the big titted presenter, holding a pendant to her cleavage. Ughh...I know the differance between a necklace and a pendent is...

In work again tomorrow at seven so gonna have to get pissed early tonight!

Get Your 'Calender' On

2006-06-15T15:52:00.000+01:00

It's painful leaving a place like Cannes and coming back to Redditch. The other day I was walking through town and this guy was pushing a pram along at top speed. Behind him was his wife, trying to keep up, all the while she is shouting at him "OI! WOMAN! GET BACK HERE! WOMAN!".

Yesterday as I'm walking to the local spar, or star as it's actually called, there was an actual crazy guy sitting on a bench shouting at people. It was brilliant, just abusing people as they walked past, pissed off his fucking tits. Later on that day down by the train station there was this old dude just sat in the middle of the footpath. Doing nothing. Just sitting.

What a shithole.

England are playing Trinidad & Tobago (what's a person from Tobago called anyway? A tobogonist? HAR-HAR-HAR) tonight, so in between texting 'Go Trinidad' to all my English friends, I've been eagerly awaiting the fighting that will invariably break out after the game. Was in Birmingham the other day after the game had finished and there were chav scum everywhere, itchin for fights. Fucking boozers.

I've just spotted a calender making program on the CD shelf beside me, so going to spend the next hour making a Dave R calender cause I got nothing fucking better to do!

Oh yeah, not coming home for my birthday in July so I'll see you fuckers some other time!

Sweeet Cannes photos!

2006-05-29T01:40:00.000+01:00

The boozers! Myself and Diarmuid annoying passing hotties outside the shithole English pub.

Me with random hottie I was annoyin outside Petit Majestic.

Myself and Diarmuid in the chicas pub with the belly dancer in the background.

My belly dancing impression!

Me and Amber: Cool American Chick on Friday night.

The red carpet girls: Courtney, Heather and Kaitlin with your idiot friend.

Dream babe #1: Courtney

Me and da bitches.

Dream babe #2: Caitriona

Yeah we're cool!

Dream babe #3: Lionie

Dream babe #4: Amelie.

DREAM BABES MAN!

sweet Cannes Part Sept!

2006-05-29T01:21:00.000+01:00

So I wake up Sunday morning. And I'm late as fucking fuck for the bus. I have about ten minutes to fuck everything into my bag and leg it around the apartment turning off the water and the electricity and pulling the deck chairs in from outside and pulling the shutters down and making sure the dishes are clean and fucking everything had to be done. So legged it out the place, hungover/drunk to fuck.

Get to the bus stop, realize I'm at the wrong bus stop. Miss the bus. Miss the plane.

Now I'm fucked.

I got tell the bird at the desk I've missed my flight, she says she can get me on the next plane for 52 quid. Grand. Look in my wallet. 40 quid. Cock. Go to the bank machine. English card has no money on it. Irish card #1 won't work. Irish card #2 I can't remember the bank code. Fucking bollocking fuck.

Look in my bag and find ten English pounds. Leg it to the foreign exchange and manage to get 12 quid for the tenner. Sweet. Get my flight and sit myself down for the five hour wait for the next plane, with zero cash.

Now my new problem is I've no money to get from John Lennon airport to Lime Street Station and from Birmingham New Street to Redditch.

So I sit hungover to fuck just laughing to myself thinkin' what a boozer I am. My battery on my jukebox dies so I'm literally flaked out on this chair in ribbons.

Spend my last few pennies on a bag of crisps, a bottle of water and a pen for my notebook. Get the flight which is a nightmare, can't sleep cause I'm so hungover. Get off the plane eventually, go to the bank machine hoping that it gives out tenners. The one in France only did twenties so there could be ten left in the account.

Punch in the info and ten sweet pounds comes plopping out.

Get to lime street station sit down on a bench just knowing somebodies gonna sit beside me and annoy me.

Five minutes later three of the biggest chaviest knackeriest scouse fucking chav wanks sit down right beside me with huge bags of booze. I'm like really fucked now. Sitting there with my notepad in hand, huge bag, gay ass scarf with mug me written over my face.

They start goin mad, drinkin, spittin, throwing fucking crisps at pigeons! Then one of them farts and the lad looks at me and goes 'sorry mate'. So I laugh back and go 'Don't worry bout it I've been holding one in for the last ten minutes!'. Three of them just stared at me.

So as if it couldnt get any worse, about ten more chav knackers come up to them with twice as much beer and two 18 year old mothers going on about when they have to collect there kids after the rave they all go to that night. The train could not come any quicker.

Then one of the chav mothers thinks I'm part of the group and starts talkin to me only to realise I don't know them. Then I realize every last one of them has a flash mobile phone in there hand and I realise it's the fucking happy slapping brigade.

And then, after all that the train finally arrives and I got on the carriage as far away from those scouse fuckers as I could. Nightmare.

Got the train to Birmingham, got the train to Redditch thankfully without event.

Total remaining balance to last me till pay day on wednesday: 0.67p.

Boozer.

Sweet Cannes Part Six!

2006-05-29T01:19:00.000+01:00

After the cafe fight I met up with Diamuid. We got talkin to some sound English distributer guy who's always in the pub and some huge fat American geologist who was tellin us about the time he getting shot at flying over Cambodia in a chopper doing some magnetology reading or whatever to find oil. Schmad.

Then Diamuids american bird arrived with her two friends; Heather, Courtney and kaitlin. Even though Heather was single I couldnt leave Courtney alone, she was bang on, just kept annoying her.

After a few beers there we went off to Ley Bureau which is a pub I was in first night. Got kicked out by some random pyscho bar girl but we all just sat out on the wall drinking and having a laugh. American girls fucking rock.

So then tons more of their hot friends show up. One looked like Paris Hilton, the other was this hot ass dutch chick called Leonie. Courtney went home with Paris Hilton lookalike so I started chatting up that Leonie one. Dream babe #2 of the night. Then some hot ass Irish girl runs past and I get talkin to her. Dream babe #3. Catriona was her name and she was fucking sound as fuck for an Irish girl. Freckles all over here, she looked lovely. Lindsay Lohan lookalike. So she had to be someplace else so we all went to Sun7 or Sunset, fuck knows. Sunsept? I dunno.

Anyway get in there and I get chatting to some English short filmmaker who lives in Brum and the bird he was there with. Definite MILF territory with her but she had a hideous accent. Got the address for his short film so I'll have to check that out.

Then got talking to this unbelievably hot American girl called Amelie. Dream babe #4 of the night. I hadn't a clue who to fucking talk to. Hot girls everywhere. SO talked to Amelie for the rest of the night and she was bang on as fuck. So nice and cool, haevnt a fucking fuck in hell what we were talkin aboot, but she wanted a slice of the Dave R.

So then Heather goes and I'm all like, bollocks, shoulda taken my chance with that single one, thn Leonie goes, which sucked balls as well. Said my goodbyes to Diamuid, crazy fucker.

No idea what happened afterwards. I talked to Amelie a bit more then I think I decided to go home, blah, no idea. Said goodbye and she stood outside on the street waving to me all the way down the road. Legend she was.

Got back to my place with two hours till my bus to the airport.

And I fell asleep...

Sweet Cannes Part Cinq Part Duex

2006-05-27T17:58:00.000+01:00

Schmadness. This wife beater starts pulling his wife around, kids by her side then he back hands her one, then she sits down and he mouths off for a bit and sits down beside her and calms down a bit.

THEN. Another fucking fight breaks out with the owner of the place and some random dude. I was like Dude, WTF?!? So I say right I'm gettin the fuck outta here before somebody does a bleedin' drive by, get up, can't get out of the building cause there's all these pissed off people at the door. So anyway then a fight breaks out, and there's smacks goin everywhere. I go back to where the computers are and everybody is just like what the hell. Then the owner dude comes back with a sweeping brush and starts whackin it against the ground.

Then the fight gets broken up. I havent a clue what to do so I try and time my exit right cause there's dodgy blokes at the door. Then another fight breaks out, even madder and your man is smackin the guy with the brush like it was a light-sabre.

So that gets broken up again and I storm past the desk throw a fiver at the guy and keep walkin. Soons I get outside the fight starts off again only this time spilling into where all the computer where. I was like, thank fuck I left when I did. The owner dude was being thrown over a table last I looked back.

Fuckin Cannes.

Sweet Cannes Part Cinq!

2006-05-27T15:51:00.000+01:00

I'm in an internet cafe and it's so fucking load and everybody seems to be annoyed over something. There's some really loud fucking bitch just about to leave and I can't wait till she fucks off.

Last night was an insane piss up the likes of which I have never seen. Went down to the yachts during the day which were sweet ass. Found another Irish pub and had a desperados then decided not to go to Nikki Beach but I did end up in the other Irish bar and got chatting with the Irish bar man. Diarmuid was his name so he said he'd head out boozin with me that night.

Armed with a drinking partner we set out for an English bar nearby cause they were selling cheap booze. Turns out it was nasty cheap booze so we knocked them back, not before I tried to get some birds to sit with us but they were having none of it. Did get talking to a bunch of sound Aussies though. Fuck knozs what aboot.

After that we went back to O'Neils to drop our gear off, I spilled a pint and the owner told me Diarmuid was a light weight. Joker. So we had one in Petit Majestic, then went to that pub with the dancing. Turns out it was a belly dancer and a fucking sexy one at that.

We got some chica, I annoyed a bunch more girls, me and Diarmuid talk aboot the various women we've turned down sex with for stupid reasons. So we go to leave and I get the bill. Twenty eight bleedin euro. Fucking fleeced cause the guy charged me for the chica. Fuckin joker, got pissed off at him for not tellin me I'd have to pay. Paid the bill and fucked off. Memory is getting sketchy now.

Think we went to Majestic again, talked to a bunch of girls, me doin the camera thing again which is annoying Diarmuid cus I'm fucking bolloxed, I leave him with a bunch of French hotties to go get more cash cause I got fleeced again buying sweets for the girls. Get back and the hot girls are gone. Joker.

Right, honestly not a fucking clue what happened next. Musta went somewhere, but next thing I remember it's three and he's going home. I get talkin to this hot American chick called Amber and we talk for ages down by the croisette, but she has a flight to catch so I'm on my toblerone again.

Next I get jumped on by somebody. Fucking Diarmuid on his way to get a kebab. Boozer, scared the life outta me. So he tells me he's gonna get his hot American girlfriend out with all her hot friends the next day for a session and he goes on his way.

Next I go back to that gay bar for a laugh. Get talking to this knob head gay producer who looks like Patrick Batemen and his hot cool friend. Unreal she was but she was havin none of it so I fucked off to Petit Majesitc.

Walkin up the street I see a crowd around some girl who's after coming off her bike. blood all over her face and she's not moving. I leg it to get somethin to stop the bleeding but by the time I get back the ambulance crew is there. As well as some knob head Security dude. Cunt. So slightly depressed I go to Majestic but nobody I know is there so I go home.

Wake up on the sofa next morning with Chris Morris's On the Hour radio show playing so I've no idea what I was listening to before. There's a fight breaking out in the internet cafe so I'm legging it. some girl just got punched, jaysus...

Sweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet Cannes Part Fourziome Part duex!

2006-05-26T14:13:00.000+01:00

Quick update cause I didn't get drunk last night. Spent the entire day down on the Croisette, had a beer in the Irish bar, went on t'internet, had a sweet ass burger in this cool pub called the Warner Bar. The hot bargirl was all 'Ley Goonies, se vrai chauf mon mouton a ley metro' pointing at my t-shirt saying she loved the film or whatever the fuck she was saying. After that I decided to be tactical and have an early night to prepare myself for two last night of solid alcohol abuse.

Not that that lasted, got out of bed about two and went to Ley Petit Majestic again. I turned the corner onto the main road and a car pulled up, this dude was feeling his wife's boobs in the car the two of them looking at me. I was like guh? Hmm...Cannes...

So still feeling knackered, I decided to be good to my liver and make an agreement, if dream babe or English girls were out, I'd stay and drink myself silly, if they weren't, I'd have one and fuck off home for an early night. I showed up, had a beer, no dream babe or English girls. Bollocks.

So yesterday was much like Empire Strikes Back, it had the big battle/ party at the start, what with the battle on Hoth and the party on Nikki Beach, then, well... I guess Empire has a better ending then my night. But the end to my night did leave the opening for a possible sequel...

I stopped by that pub that I was at the night before with the smokey thingy and the annoying girl, and that bar dude was there, he was like 'ahh my friend' and it took me about half an hour to explain to him I wasnt gonna drink tonight. So then he invited me to some oriental dance party or something tonight, so gonna head to that.

Hopefully I'll get fucking laid for a change, my apartment I'm staying in is sweet-ass, have to take some photos to show yis all what it's like. Got home about three, and could not sleep for the life of me. Think I got to sleep around six or seven. So much for an early night.

Anyway, it's half three and I havent heard back from either producers I e-mailed so I'm gonna go get drunk.

More Sweet Cannes Photos cause Blogger messed up!

2006-05-25T20:53:00.000+01:00

Nikki Beach from the view of the mere mortals who aren't cool enough to get in.

Nikki Beach from the inside. Where cool people get to go, cool people like...

...cool people like me!

More cool people, sun's so hot it blacks out my camera!

Sweet Cannes Photo page!

2006-05-25T20:42:00.000+01:00

My notepad with my drunk writing from the night before.

Me with palm tree pig tails.

French bar dude smoking that thingymajiggy. Face obscured for artistic reasoning.

That smoking thingymajiggy.

Me with that girl who was annoying me.

Me and ley fireworks exploding dans ley sky.

Yay! Time for more photos! Now with comments!

Sweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet Cannes Part Fourzeeom!

2006-05-25T20:33:00.000+01:00

Head into town and grab a copy of Variety Magazine from their stand. It has a list of all the producers and everything in town, so I'm gonna e-mail one or two and pitch them my super cool movie idea which shall remain nameless cause it's so cool.

That mad beach party was on again at Nikki Beach so I went to the beach beside it and sat down to read Variety. And, oh yeah. Boobies fucking everywhere on the beach. Unbelievable. I was like 'guh!'. My work here is fucking done!

Decided to try and get into Nikki Beach again and didnt see the bouncer so legged it in disappeared into the crowd.

Unfuckingbelievable that place is. Fucking hot rich people everywhere. Took me seven fucking days to get served at the bar cause I'm so pale and fucking Irish. A small can of Grolsch cost eight bleedin euro. Well worth it though, the hard bodies there as they say were amazing.

There was a bunch of girls there with uniformed bikini's all saying 'V.I.P. ROOM - HILTON', which must be some kinda cool...ehh, VIP Room, at the umm, hilton. Anyway they were unreal. One, this amazing blonde, had a dog that was legging it around the place and I was hoping to sweet fuck that dog would come over to me and do a fucking piss on me or anything just so that blonde would talk to me. But it didn't, fuckin animals over here hate me. Wankers.

Had another ridiculously overpriced beer and had a wander around, tried to find some girls that I thought I might be able to chat up but couldnt see any. Too fucking hot. The lot of them. There's no ugly girls around here. I have to be on the look out for ugly hot girls. Ridiculous.

Everybody was going mad for this one corner of the party, that seemed to have the richest hot people, but you couldnt move an inch it was so busy. Went inside the Nikki Beach bar, and came out the other exit, which landed me right in the middle of the party. Sun was just aimed at these people. They were all dancing on the tables and chairs in their bikini's, waiters rushing bottles of champagne to these lads just so they'd pop them and spray everybody. Legendry. The boobs on some of these girls as well. Spec-tac-ular. Man I love boobies.

Only half nine so more to come on Sweet Cannes Part Fourzeeom. I fucking hate reading about other peoples cool adventures. It's like, fuck off already.

Sweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet Cannes Part Trois!

2006-05-25T20:08:00.000+01:00

Woke up and it's the most amazing day I've ever seen in my life outside. The day just woke up, looked around and said 'fuck off clouds!'. Mr. Blue Sky everywhere. Went down to the Croisette to check out Nikki Beach cause some schmad hot blonde LA girl from the night before told me I'd love it, "everybody's drunk and dancing and doing drugs" she said or something like that. Got down to it and it was like something out of MTV, those mad beach parties you see. The women were un-fuckin-believable. Tried to get in but the bouncer wouldn't let my ugly Irish ass in. Cunt.

The French age so well. There's so many MILFs around. It's yummy mummy city, so many more women to possibly chat up. Went to this other Irish bar, Morrisons and watched Staunton fuck up our Ireland squad and lose to Chile 1-0. Gaaaay. There was this really shit French band playing as well 'this is by the coldplay' so I left.

This whole being on your own thing is mad. There's something weird about it. I mean how often, are you ever just on your own? With nobody to hang out with or anything. It's cool. I've never spent so much time on my own, how long's the longest you've spent just on your own?

Anyway back to the getting pissed. Right can't read my notes again. Right what happened? Saw some fireworks in the sky so I grabbed my bottle of Desperados and headed to the beach. This boat was shooting them into sky, looking deadly. After that had a drunken wander down the croisette to the main cinema thingy, then went to a pub.

The last page of my notes for that night is a fucking disgrace. Haven't a clue what it says. Anyway, went to some other pub and the bar guy fuckin loved me, he was just laughin at me I was so pissed. And some woman was freaking out at me for some reason. Turns out she was the manager and wanted me out but the bar guy was havin none of it. Had to buy a drink to stay and the only thing I could afford was a tequilla, which was a very bad idea. Bad Billy No Mates! So I did the shot, fucking painful. Then the bar dude got out this weird smoking thing, called a chicha or some damned thing. You see them in the movies, it's like this big massive bong type thing, with a huge I dunno, straw. Smoked a bit of it, was pretty cool, asthma feckin' killed me after that though. Probably have another smoke of it tonight.

So anyway, that's pretty much my last memory from last night. Bloody tequilla. I think I went to the Majestic again. But have no idea how I got home. I woke up this morning with the blinds still open, sun beating in. Couldnt find my phone. Saw I left the kitchen door wide open, went outside and my phones out there with a bag of crisps, and my t-shirt which is soaking wet.

Absolutly no idea what I was doing.

Sweeeeeeeeet Cannes Part Duex

2006-05-25T19:50:00.000+01:00

Woke up hung over to fuck, went and bought some croissants and a baguette and I got a bag of grated cheese that was called rape. Hmmm. Went for a walk though the town and was almost killed by a rogue wing mirror that broke off a passing car. Almost been run over about twenty times as well, cars and mopeds everywhere.

The sweet thing about Cannes is the Petit Majestic is open really late so you don't have to rush out to get pissed. I find the Irish bar in town and finally have a decent pint. It's an O'Neils chain bar but it's pretty cool. It serves pints of this stuff called 'Wilde beer' which is cheap enough, and there's a pool table and this kitten running around the place. I was hopin it'd jump up on the chair beside me so I could grab a photo then caption it 'the closest pussy I'll get to over here' but instead it jumped up on a chair beside this old dude who almost had a heart attack. Boozer.

I'm reading all this from my notepad, and I'm getting pished at this stage so I can't really read my notes so I'll have to use my fucking memory. I'm so pished I'm writing stuff like 'It'd be cool if dream babe was out and wanted me to touch her boobies. Actually insisted, daily, on me touching her breasts. An amazing concept. Me + hot girl + hands + boobies = her want'. Fucking pisshead.

The night's getting quiet, not much happening, there's some French twat trying to rap, people are using a Volkswagen as a table and it's a bloody handicapped persons car.

Get bored and do my camera thing again, fucking love that trick, end up talking to these three sound English girls. Claire, Sarah and Melanie Mel, ya saw their photos in the previous post, they look better then they do in the photos but that could be my drunk vision talking. Anyway Claire was a screenwriter and she was telling me how to get a pitch meeting set up, so about to do that now. She got some producer dude to read her screenplay and shit. The other two were bang-on and I couldnt figure out which I liked better.

Anyway I pissed them off at some stage as I usually do but I'm sure I'll annoy them again at some point during the week. They were cool. Pissed off some film producer and some actor as well but sorted it out. Too lazy to explain how.

Got to bed at about six, pubs need to open later in Ireland and England.

Sweeeet Cannes Photos

2006-05-24T14:10:00.000+01:00

I can't view these images so I'm just plonking them in. In it is the mad sax player, a couple of random dudes, and a couple of girls I was chatting up last night. And a photo of the only pussy I'll be getting near. Boozers!

Sweeet Cannes... Part Une

2006-05-24T13:53:00.000+01:00

Cannes is mad. Got off the bus at eleven Monday night and the place is jammers. People everywhere. Found the place I was stayin, threw on some cool clothes and hit the Croisette as it's called, the premier of X-Men 3 was on but I was too lazy to stand around and look at Patrick Stewarts head.

Walked around for ages trying to find a decent pub, went into some pub, everybody is drinking half pints, I ask for a pint and the girl immiedietly asks me do I want a full pint, I must have alco written all over me.

Went into another bar called Zanzibar next, got a pint. At about 1.51 I thought to myself 'I think this is a gay bar'. One minute later I thought 'this is a gay bar'. Had two French gay guys try and chat me up, after a 'guh?' from me they went off giggling to themselves. I make men giggle like school girls over here. I rule.

So anyways, then I went looking for the Irish bar, it was shut but I did find the busiest bar in Cannes - Ley Petit Majestic. People were pouring out of the place onto the street, and it was still piss easy to get a beer.

Was going quiet until this random dude gets up on a table and starts playing the sax like mad. Fucking legend. Place went mad. This other guy grabs a bottle of champagne and starts spraying it over the bar. Got bleedin soaked. Got talkin to some Irish dude who was really unfriendly but he was from up the north so that doesn't really count. Was talkin to some sound English guy as well and I did my 'can ya take my photo?' line on this amazingly cute French girl who had an ass that said 'how are ya?'. Ended up talkin for ages, she's doin the cinephile fan thing in Cannes, and she told me French lines like 'Can I have a cheap beer please' and 'My name is David and I'm really cool'. Ass on her was so good and her face so cute I have no idea what her boobs look like, or what her name was. And if I'm not looking at her boobs ya can imagine what she looked like. Sexy as fuck as well. Accent on her.

As with the theme of my 24th year, she got dragged away by her friends, but I'm sure I'll see her around before weeks end.

It was about six and I was knackered so I went home, and people were still out drinking. Boozers. I did all right though seemings I'd been travelling for twelve hours, but sure that's another story! Ahhahahahahhahaha. And ha.

Get Your 'Cannes' On

2006-05-21T15:15:00.000+01:00

T minus 1 Day till I go to Cannes and it's going to fucking rock. Unfortunatly for the world, the pitch competition which some of you helped me with has been cancelled, so I don't get to become famous for the time being, but with any luck, my alcohol habit will give me the opportunity to talk to a few hotshot Hollywood producers. Hopefully one will offer to fly me over to LA to pitch my script to Spielberg, and eh, throw in some sex with Teri Hatcher while I'm at it.

But expect regular updates on my adventures, with photos and stories about how I didn't get laid over the next week, in a series of posts I like to call:
Sweeet Cannes....

Get Your 'MW4D' On

2006-05-20T14:26:00.000+01:00

It looks like Donal has caught the imagination of thoasands of web users across the country. If you haven't checked out his 'Brown Note' post yet, get your Media Whoredom For Dummies on now.

It's caught on so well that even the revered b3ta.com have linked to it on their amazing b3ta newsletter, which is the best thing on the web these days.

Besides all the porn.

'Get Your 'Sinfest' On

2006-05-14T05:14:00.000+01:00

I love sinfest...

Get Your 'Random Photos' On

2006-05-13T19:06:00.000+01:00

Fucking stupid, can't find the one photo I wanted to put up that started this bloody post. So now you don't get to see Donal rocking out in Doyles giving the peace sign...

Get Your 'BNP' On

2006-05-06T00:36:00.000+01:00

Ahhh Redditch...what a shithole.

Get Your 'Postcard' On

2006-05-04T18:01:00.000+01:00

Donal just made a post (amazung!) about the drunken postcard I sent him a few weeks ago.

Mac, Kev, Grover, Paddy, you get yours?

If you want a drunken postcard e-mail me your address!

Get your 'Comments' On

2006-05-03T14:20:00.000+01:00

Here's me thinking I'm realy unpopular getting no comments for ages when Eoin points out they're not working. So I checks out the settings and turns out I suddenly now have to approve comments. So low and behold I have a bunch of comments from you smart ass fuckers including a grammer lesson from Donal. The Cunt.

So go forth yee and read ley olde comments, I have unleasehed them into the world!

Get Your 'Redditch' On

2006-04-23T15:21:00.000+01:00

So it's happened. I'm being forced to move to Redditch, the 'how did that get there?!?' shitstain on the wall of life's toilet.

This has come about because the guy who gave me a lift home each night from work got a job back in Ireland and so has left me fend for myself last few weeks.

Which has involved me begging lifts off people or else sleeping in various others houses, floors and dope covered sofas. Last night I spent the night in a room with no curtains. No curtains man! What's the world come to?!? With a bloody streetlight right outside it. And then the fucking sun in the morning. I didn't even have a duvet, just a duvet cover. There was even a woodlouse crawling across the floor at one stage.

But none of that come Wednesday, instead I'll be living in Redditch. Woo yay. Not that I didn't have a choice. I could have moved to the early shift. And by early shift I mean 'get the fuck up at half five in the fucking morning' early shift.

Fuck. That.

I'd rather iron my sack, or, move to Redditch then wake up early. That's my new phrase 'I'd rather move to Redditch'.

So no more plush penthouse, lake adjacent, 10 minutes from Birmingham center, Swedish cooking-mad housemate dreamhome for me.

Instead I'm five minutes from the chav filled Kingfisher Mall (where one day I swear they were playing the themesong from War of the Worlds the Musical over there speakers, scared the shit out of me), living with an alcho and a stoner, in an unfurnished bedroom (soon to be furnished with cheap Argos grade linen covered wardrobe type thing) in Redditch, former European captial of teen suicides & pregnancies.

The good news? It's got the internet! Huzzah! So stay tuned for lots of interesting stories about the happy land known as Redditch. Lalalalala...

Kill me.

Get Your 'Year Away' O

2006-04-09T15:14:00.000+01:00

Well I've been gone just over a year. So the last few weeks I've spent debating whether I made the right choice in leaving friends and family to move to England. What did I do over here that I couldnt have done, had I stayed in Ireland?

I got a job in television which is good. Payrise, promotion, also good. I supported myself for an entire year, dealt with any problems, payed bills, got accomadation, made new friends, visited Edinburgh and...ehh, Bristol, played in a football tournament, met Vince from Mighty Boosh, appeared regularily on digital television and got thrown out of a cafe.

But who cares about that shite? Did I see any new boobies?!?

Of course I did!

HUZZAH! THE YEAR WAS WORTH IT!

Get Your 'Blogger' On

2006-03-04T21:27:00.000Z

Well I suppose I should update this fucking place. The reason for lack of postings is because I haven't been near a webbed up computer since Edinburgh. And now I'm back up here for the weekend so I might as well say m'lo.

Thing's are all good with me. Just got a payrise in work so now I have more money to drink. Which is basically all I've been doing since Christmas. Working and drinking. Like, pretty much every day I've had off. Besides like, maybe, 6 days? Who knows, anyway drinking if fucking brilliant, it's gone way up in my estimation of late.

Probably because I've stoped drinking beer in an effort to kill the beer belly. Whiskey being the replacement. Still not man enough to drink it straight although the scotch is easier then the bourban. I'm a way better drunk with the whiskey as well. As in I talk to more girls when I'm whiskey-drunk. Also ya don't feel so bloated but all the coke gets a bit much after a while. What else can ya mix whiskey with?

Anyways I should really go easy on the drinking but I really have fuck all else to be doing. The only other alternative, from what I can see, is to watch TV. I'd rather be a drunk then a telly addict anyway. TV is so bloody boring besides Sky Sports News, Scrubs, and My Name is Earl. Thats my justification for being a crazy drunk. I'd rather be out, getting drunk and looking down girls tops then inside watching crap TV. I'd rather be out getting drunk and looking down girls tops then contributing to crap TV as well, but at least I can look down girls tops at work.

My weekend in Edinburgh is up so I'll be flying back to Birmingham tomorrow. Had a cool time but woulda been better if I wasnt dying from this perpetual cold I have thats finally launched it's main attack. Back in Dublin for St. Patricks Weekend so hope to see yis all out. Unless you're some random person who's found this site and I don't know you. Then I don't want to see you out. (Unless you have big boobies.)

Get Your 'Edinburgh' On

2006-01-06T21:45:00.000Z

On my friends internet driping laptop, checkin out some e-mails, noticing how none of you update your websites, trying to think of something interesting to shite aboot.

But fuck it, all is good, my friend is in her room getting ready, thinking I'm cleaning the dishes, preparing to take me towards her friends and they're hotter friends, once again; all is good.

Here for the weekend, not much news, new years was good, worked till ten, drank till four, puked in a girl in works back garden, got away with it.

Was mid-stream at T minus 20 seconds, so had to finish up quick, wash my hands and leggit downstairs. Got there too late. Great start to the new year...

Spacebar sucks gee on this laptop...

Get Your '2006' On!

2005-12-29T15:07:00.000Z

Well a year hath doth passt, a year where I bid thee and Ireland farewell, where I said helloeth to England and English girls boobies. I return now to England having had a great return to Dublin. Knackers aside it was good fun. I have no credit on my phone or on the web so I'll say my good byes here, don't know when I'll get a chance to post, but you can take it for granted it's going to be the sub-standard ravings of a spastik.

I hope everybody has a good New Years, I'll be getting drunk in work and trying to operate live television studio cameras, so that'll be fun to watch.

Until next I see yee all, GET YOUR 2006 ON!

Get Your 'Scumbag' Fight On

2005-12-28T15:06:00.000Z

I was just asking for trouble by saying I felt like I was going to get into a fight. A few days have passed now and I've almost been in two scumbag fights. There were Gardai involved. I'm an idiot.

Thankfully there wasn't any fights due to me realising I'm far too lazy a person to actually engage in what is basically agreesive excercising. And I only enjoy excercising when I'm drunk.

Too lazy to tell the stories but Kev has the details on the first almost scumbag fight and Donal has a first hand account of the second almost scumbag fight. Donal is hardcore man, he's my hero, ya shoulda seen him, taking no guff from those fucking swine.

Quote of the Month definatly goes to Donal with his 'Ya think you can take me on?!?!?' directed at not one person but an entire posse of Raheny knacker-folk.

Get your 'scumbag' on

2005-12-26T00:44:00.000Z

I think I'm going to have to get into a fight with a scumbag sometime this week, they're really doing my tits in.

Other day we were behind Brown Thomas; of all places to see a scumbag, and there were these two bombing down the road on a bike, almost hit a car, and they give a big 'SCWARRR! FUCK OFF!!' to the driver, then the other guy on the bike tries to throw his gross-skanger-knacker-tissue into the next car. I really wanted the driver to backwards roll out of his car with a gun in both hand firing indiscriminately into the crowd. Some collateral damage would have been worth it just to get those scumbags.

Then the other night, me and Marklarr were doing our stupid laughing thing we do cause-we're-stupid when two scumbags decide to join in. So I decided to join in with them laughing even more, a sort of mind your own fucking business, before adding 'Yeah you're schmad!', which took them all of five minutes to take in before coping on and shouting 'What you say?!?'.

Then twenty minutes ago, St. Stephens Day, there's these four pissed skanger teen girls outside the house. See them coming through the front gate walking to the side of the house. My ma' tells me to get after them; leggit outside only to witness the Merry Fucking Christmas site of two of them takin a fuckin' slash. I'm like, 'get a load of these two' emoticon and I tell there skanky asses to get the fuck out. So they leggit out, me, my mam and my dad go after them telling them to feck off.

So they walk up the road, do a slash in some other garden, then they do a slash behind some van. My dad calls the Gardai, while the pissed girls wait for a bus. Then they walk off up the road. A bus shows up and they leg it for it, and the bus driver decides to stop for them. Wanker. Then two seconds later the Gardai show up and piss off seemings they missed the show. Twats.

I swear if I had the Gardai after me, waiting for a bus there wouldnt have been one in sight. In fact, had I just been waiting for a bus it wouldn't have fuckin showed up.

Dublin scumbags, death to yis all.

Get your 'Christmas' On

2005-12-25T19:35:00.000Z

Yeah that's right 'Christmas', I'm not joining you Xmas folk yet, altho I do like Black Goat Semen's XXXMas, it's nice to say 'Triple X-Mas', but anyway, here's hoping yis all had a good day and had tons of food and presents.

Had a great day myself except for my terrible run in the Christmas cracker league. I musta competed in over 10 Christmas crackers and lost every time! Ridiculous! My sisters gave me a consolation Christmas paper crown, but I declined.

Christmas paper crowns are for winners...

Get your 'Bombay TV' on!

2005-12-24T04:47:00.000Z

Check out these movies I've made!

http://www.grapheine.com/bombaytv/playuk.php?id=420735

http://www.grapheine.com/bombaytv/playuk.php?id=420743

http://www.grapheine.com/bombaytv/playuk.php?id=420766

http://www.grapheine.com/bombaytv/playuk.php?id=420767 marklarrs

http://www.grapheine.com/bombaytv/playuk.php?id=420777

Get Your 'Zombie' On

2005-12-22T21:45:00.000Z

Been doing a ton of writing since I've been back. Just finished a thirty page Radioplay called 'Dead Air' about two DJ's trapped in a radio station in the middle of a zombie invasion. Gonna get Black Goat Semen to help me out with the vocals and music, as well as help from a few others.

Hopefully have it recorded and edited before I leave for England next Thursday, otherwise I'll have to relocate the action to the West Midlands...

Get your 'Earthquake' On

2005-12-16T02:49:00.000Z

So it appears I'm the only person I know who felt the Earthquake (or tremor as Duggan calls it seemings he didn't feel it's wrath) t'other night. I was lying in bed, getting my So Duko on for the first time ever (doing quite good in a 'difficult' rated puzzle) when the 'quake hit.

There was a gust of wind and my bed shook back and forth a few times. My brain works fast so it had localised the event to either: "fucking earthquake!" or "fucking big gust of wind!"

Man, somebodies gettin' their chase on outside, I can hear a shit load of cop cars and a helichopper upstairs.

ANYWAY back to the quake. Two point something on the ricter scale, get it on! Anyway t'was fun being in an earthquake and all. Just glad I lived to tell the tale...

Update: Twenty Major has more!

Get your '100 Years of Solitude' on

2005-12-14T00:20:00.000Z

So I finally finished 100 Years of Solitude, last years Christmas present from my ma. I had this conversation earlier with Mac about it on MSN.

David: I finished 100 years of solitude, took me 10 months, fuckin hate that book
MacDara: I have it, i dont think ill read it though.
David: It's...man, nothing fucking happens and everything happens
MacDara: Hes all into that 'magical realism' shit, right?
David: Yeah, and incest and beastiality
MacDara: Ew
David: But, he never sticks on one story long enough so it doesnt really matter
MacDara: Sounds like a blog
David: Man how funny would that be, just, make a blog based on the events in the book; 100 years of blogitude
MacDara: Hey, theres an idea for ya, we can do it together
David: Nah, I'd rather iron my sack then spend any more time with that cunt of a book
MacDara: Hehehe
David: I'll blog this conversation though
MacDara: Please do, make me famous
David: Look this is going to be in the blog
David: And this
David: And this
Macdara: And this?
David: This might be the end
David: Unless you say something funny
David: Soon
MacDara: Um...
MacDara: Er...

Get your 'Batman' On

2005-12-13T18:31:00.000Z

So I'm sitting down, getting my MSN on with Mac, Marklarr and Grover when I hear two knackers outside arguing over something. I'm like 'Get a load of these guys' emoticon and I look out the window, turns out their in the garden, cans in their hand doing something. So I'm like right I'm gonna get my Batman Begins on and I open the door, stroll out but they don't even notice cause they're fucking thick and I'm getting my Batman Begins on.

So I figure they're up to no good so I go to them 'Yis all right lads? Ya need a hand?' and one of them takes off running quickly followed by t'other. Now usually, I'd leg it after them, but, I just don't bother today. Fear is my weapon.

So anyways, I inspect where they were, and turns out they were trying to set a bush on fire. So I have a look around for them anyway with me ma' in the ca' but we can't find them anyway. Then we pass by my next door neighbours house on the way back. There's some kid looking in the gates.

So my mam pulls over, I get out, sneak up Batman Begins stylee, as he enters the garden, unaware of my presence. I stand at the gate, blocking his exit. Turns out it wasn't the scummers but some little boy with his football.

"I was only getting me ball" he says strolling past my apparently not so menacing frame.

"Frightened the life outta me ya did"

Fear is my weapon.

Get your 'Black Goat Semen' on

2005-12-12T19:57:00.000Z

Black Goat Semen are offering fans of their music a Christmas present but they need 6 neigh's before they do so. Do it so we get to hear their version of 'The Aristocrats'.

It's supposed to be worse then anything in the movie...

Get your '43 Things' on

2005-12-11T22:33:00.000Z

Founds this website earlier whilst web-slinging, but thought it was kinda gay. Went back later when I was bored and figured I didn't mind getting my gay on. It's cool. What you do is, set up an account, then make a list of 43 things you want to do, in a "lists make you visualize what you want to do better and help you achieve them" kinda way.

Then you add things you've already done, and make notes on how to accomplish them. Like already I've learnt that to get to Space, I don't need to pay like two million dollors to the Russian Space people but instead just pay 200,000 pounds to Virgin Galactic. Cool.

You can even set it up so it will send your future self an email in like, a years time reminding you to do something. Like take a shower.

I've even been getting into the spirit of things seemings there's no nasty things on it really. Like I havent added 'See more boobies' as one of my things or 'Go to the fucking STD clinic', see cause you can add your own things, for example I just added 'Stop saying "Get my *insert word here* on" every five minutes...

So we didn't get laid.

2005-11-30T23:23:00.000Z

Me and Kevin that is. In Birmingham. When he came over to visit. But not for lack of trying. Actually we didn't try at all, but sure we were busy, ya know...drinking and...bein' drunk and thinkin of places to be drunk.

It was around that time that I realised how shite Birmingham is. Nightlife wise. It sucks balls. In fact, everywhere sucks balls. Birmingham, Dublin, Wolverhampton. I'm not happy drinking anywhere. Not that it'll stop me from drinking but it just needs to be said. Anyways, I'll post up a picture of me and Kevin having fun tomorrow, a better one then was posted on his website, i.e. one that doesn't make me look so fat.

I'm buying the new Franz Ferdinand album as we speak. And by buying I mean stealing, and by stealing I mean downloading. Their rythmes are fresh this time 'round. Damn, I'm buying it so fast at the moment, that buying rate is so fast on bittorrent.

Damnit. I hate when you spend ages buying an album then none of the tracks work for some reason.

Glory, glory, what a hell of a way to die!

2005-11-08T14:52:00.000Z

Heading back to Birmingham in a while, there hasn't been much posting going on due to a) me not getting up to much and b) the stuff I did get up to being deemed unsuitable for general knowledge. But rest assured it all ended in your standard Dave R way, as in, I didn't get laid.

But rest assured, there'll be plenty more 'me not getting laid' stories for your viewing pleasure as soon as I don't get laid.

Kev is taking a trip to Birmingham at the weekend so I'm sure I'll have lots of 'me not getting laid' stories for yis then.

Now to the airport with me! I look forward to my flight ritual of humming 'glory, glory what a hell of a way to die' during take off, landing and intense turbulance. I always feel sorry for the person sitting next to me.

Phantastic Phun Friday!

2005-11-04T16:28:00.000Z

Woo! Yeah! Getting pished again tonight. It's really starting to lose it's appeal, by which I mean I've only been drunk twice since Monday and not four times.

Monday was the Halloween party in Voodoo lounge which I was adament I was going to enjoy despite the crazy 10 quid in cover charge, the crazy selection of drink on tap (Budweiser or crab juice), the crazy beer stealing girl at the bar, the crazy scumbags in the toilet, the crazy Gardai raiding the place, and the crazy vegan girl outside the bar wearing a fur coat. One word to describe the night: fun.

Wednesday was Calico Jak gig in Temple Bar Music Center. It was a right blogger night out featuring Grover, Matt, and Kev. Me and Grover spent the night slagging off the other bands ('my lady wind' being the hit lyric of the night) whilst agreeing that the band Calico Jak was in was the best. After that we ended up in Doyles where I insisted on chatting up all six girls who were actually in the place. Disastrous as usual. The other fun part of the night was acting the idiot around Calico Jak's new lady-friend.

Tuesday and Thursday were spent contemplating starting NaNoWriMo this year or else downloading stuff for the night.

Final score:
Porn: 2
Writing: 0

After Photo's...

2005-10-30T14:50:00.000Z

available here!

I think the evil spirit of Dr. Hunter S. Thompson posessed me last night, I was fucking gee-eyed. Walked up to the Odeon, in costume, wearing runners, a stupid hat and a cigerette in my mouth; bouncers didn't know what hit them. I'd already had aboot five beers so I well was on my way. Found Declan, sat down, then all his friends started to arrive, he had a good turn out, place was fairly dead though for most of the night, picked up towards the end.

My first depraved action of the night was to use Declans birthday card as a way of chatting up all his girlfriends hot friends. Only got as far as the first two seemings they were ultra-hot and from New York. Thought I got nowhere until they invited me to some Adidas free drink party. Why I didn't go with them I'll never know. Something about hanging out with 'friends'. Gaaaaaaay.

Then I ran into some old friends from the Ol' FCA, got chatting to some birds then my friend totally cock blocked me, and went for it himself. Didn't get anywhere though. Next thing I remember is chatting up some girl at the bar Ron Burgendy style. Which was hilarious, I highly recommend it, just keep telling the girl that you're cool and that she wants you and that she can have you. She enjoyed herself; except she didn't let me have sex with her body which wasn't so cool.

Then I remember chatting up some other girl, getting on great with her but she had a boyfriend or some stupid excuse like that. THEN I remember almost getting into a fight with some fat fuck who wouldn't hand me my jacket from behind his fat ass.

THEN I remember some girl just like slagging me off cause I was dressed like an idiot and I was like 'What's with you just like randomly slagging off some passer by' and she was all 'that was a bit dodgy come to think of it' and apologized. Bloody women.

I remember slagging Gavin off shit loads for some reason and making a joke about paedo's to these lawyer girls working on some big child abuse case. I lost my cigerette along the way as well as my (somebody in my families) sunglasses.

I also brought up my cool AIDS board game in many a conversation, the general consensus from everybody is that I'm evil. Have no idea what happened to anybody at the end of the night, I walked back with Declan, his girlfriend and her friend, chatting her up along the way. And by chatting her up I mean talking like an idiot Ron Burgendy style to her. She didn't go for it.

Anyway more information about the night when I hear it off somebody more sober then me. Also photos.

Before Photo...

2005-10-29T20:27:00.000+01:00

Hunter S. Thompson 1937 - 2005. Also Saturday 29th of October.

Man, Slick needs to stop stealing my lines...

2005-10-29T04:02:00.000+01:00

Last night...

2005-10-28T04:14:00.000+01:00

Me: Cool cow-girl outfit
Her: Gimme your sherriff badge!
Me: No way, I found this! this is all I have for a halloween outfit!
Her: I own it!
Me: No you don't! No cow-girl ever was a sheriff!
Her: Are you getting into a sexist discussion about the wild-west?
Me: Damn straight!
Her: Cow-girls were so sheriffs!
Me: Whatever, you're not having my badge,
Her: What the hell are you supposed to be dressed as anyway?!?
Me: A sherriff!
Her: All you have is a crappy plastic badge!
Me: I'm undercover!

She walked away.

I'm sick of making "I'm back at home posts"...

2005-10-25T23:04:00.000+01:00

...there's been so many over the last few years, it's like, can't I just stay at home or fuck off somewhere and stay fucked off? I think in 2006 I'm seriosly going to stay fucked off and not bother coming home.

Anyway, saw A History of Violence today, it's like a crappy soppy tv movie mixed with moments of extreme violence. Which makes it difficult to recommend.

But anyways, I convinced Marklarr and Bo to come to mine with Monopoly and a shit load of alcohol last night. If you've ever seen Glengarry Glenross it was like that only without the cool dialogue and the interesting storyline. So yeah, basically we just played monopoly.

But anwyays, I came up with this great idea for a board game. It's called Mono-Poly. You pick a piece, either guy or girl, and you roll the dice, land on a square, and each square is a person, like a guy or girl you're trying to score, and you roll a dice to see do you score them, then if you do, you roll a dice to see if you're drunk enough to remember to use a condom, then if you don't you roll a dice to see if you get an STD, then you pick from the STD card pile and see if you actually do get an STD, then basically the last person without AIDS wins. It all involves alchohol and stripping and basically I'll make fucking millions selling it to students and shit.

Anyways, I'm making the game this week, anybody who wants to be involved in the beta testing leave a message and I'll invite you. Except Conor, you're barred you slutty AIDS ridden virgin.

Regarding The Art Brut Gig A Few Weeks Ago...

2005-10-24T23:40:00.000+01:00

Man, what a fucking shite night that was. I fucking hate gigs. I'm probably the only person of my generation to say that but I do. They just suck fucking ass. If it's somebody I really like, like Billy Corgan or the Pre-Fab Sprouts I'll go, I'll enjoy, but anybody else, you'd really have to promise me a lot of alcohol before, during, and after the gig.

(I think most of it stems from having been to so many fucking shite crap gigs around Dublin in the last few years. You go to some gig, have to shut up for two hours while everybody stands around not talking, waiting for the band to stop singing about some unrequited love, so that the next band can come on stage and drone on about some unrequited love until the DJ can start and you can go about getting rejected by any number of hot Dublin girls and get to the real meat of the night, ME going on about unrequited love.)

But anyway, Art Brut is one band I really really wanted to see. So the night they were playing I was scheduled to work. I went to extreme lengths to get the shift off but couldn't. Eventually had to do a late shift, then get up the next morning for an early just to get the night off. So the day of the gig, in work I see an article in a newspaper saying Art Brut were playing the following day. I was like, 'guh?' so aksed Marklarr to check their website for me seeing when they played. It was indeed that night and not the next day. 'Grandiose' I said and friend in hand (not in hand) I went to the gig.

We arrived at the venue (The Academy) only to discover that the gig was sold out. Fuck-nuts! So I spend the next half hour trying to beg, borrow, steal or suck my way to a ticket. Eventually get one for me but not my friend (he can do his own sucking). Then, all these girls went nuts about some skinny lanky rocker type bloke outside telling him his vocals are amazing. Indeed they are I swooned.

Now, I really don't know what the lead singer of Art Brut looks like, but I was fairly sure this wasn't him. I stroll up to him and say something along the lines of 'Story, give us some tickets!' but the guy is a total cock-ass and what's more he's American. Now, I don't know what the lead singer of Art Brut sounds like, but I'm pretty sure he's not American.

So these guys show up from the cancelled Hal gig and ask these girls who's playing. 'The Academy' they say. I'm like, wait a damn minute. I look at the ticket. It says The Academy. I look at the venue, it's called the Academy. Surely the name on the ticket, is just the name of the venue. Surely!

So I go up to the girls and they inform me that I'm a complete fucking idiot and that Art Brut aren't playing and that it's some band called the Academy. I mean really, The Academy playing in a venue called The Academy?!?

What's more, I really wanted to tell the lead singer to go fuck himself after he was all 'Hey man, sorry we don't got no extra tickets, man, sorry dude, bro, man, no tickets, man, man, MAN!' but instead I said 'Well, this guy...appears to be...part of Art Brut at least so...should be nice to him.'

So I sell the girls my ticket and refuse their offer of oral sex while resisting the urge to get their numbers and find an internet cafe with the worst fucking interface ever (I said interface) and look on the Art Brut website which confirms the gig is on tonight. THEN, I click on the forum and discover a message saying the band haven't a clue how to update the site and that the gig has been changed to the following day.

Fucking. Bastards.

I guess bands are cool for a reason. They don't know how to update web sites or, say, get the most out of free internet porn, but should we hate them for that when we miss out on a cool gig? No. Instead, it's those reasons why these bands rock so hard. Why, I can almost guarantee, that if they had updated that web site, Art Brut would have rocked 10.78% less to all those people who planned in advance to see them like proper fans and didn't leave it till the last minute to arrange things like an idiot monkey boy.

Filming A Live Gig For Dummies in Ten Tips

2005-10-15T00:51:00.000+01:00

I scowered the internet for tips about shooting live music before the Walls gig but alas got busy looking at porn. Here's ten tips to do if you find yourself having to shoot a live gig and have no idea what to do. Damn I wish I made this post before the gig...things woulda been so much better...

1) Get as many cameras as possible. Three is great. Twenty is better. Two is a OK. One is amazing. But two is good. The more cameras you have, the more songs you'll be able to edit together and show to people.

2) Find out what songs the band want specifically and make sure they don't play those songs until after the third or forth song so you have time to figure out what the fuck you are doing.

3) Get lots of audience shots. If you don't have shots of the audience rocking out it will just seem like the band are playing to themselves and shit. You need those shots to show that the band fucking rocks!!

4) Make sure you have a camera on the lead singer at all times. If you only have one camera, leave it on him for the song you want to edit, then for the next few songs get shots of the other members and then edit them into final piece.

5) If you have a second camera, use it to get shots of the various bands members. Lead guitarist, drummer, bass guitar, piano player, triangle player, saxaphone player, you get the message.

6) Make sure the song they want put together is played at the same tempo live as it is recorded, so that, it can match up right and shit.

7) Or else get a minidisc recording of the gig.

8) The speed of the song should determine how long you stay on a shot. You want as much coverage as possible but you might not have enough cameras for that. If it's a fast song stick on a shot for about 5 - 10 seconds, if it's a slow song stick around a bit longer. 11 seconds for example.

9) Try and figure out how to grade the final piece so it gets rid of the crappy digital look and looks a bit cooler.

10) When telling people how to film a live gig don't say there is ten tips when you can only think of nine.

eoined.blogspot.com

2005-10-02T19:46:00.000+01:00

Out on Wednesday night the word 'owned' kept being bandied about because I caught Mark dissing my camera-work behind my back and then later Mark got owned by some old drunk who heard him slagging him off behind his back. Mark got owned so often that night.

Then I myself got 'owned' when that girl flashed her boobs at me then punched me in the face. So the word owned was a truly hated word that night because of it's a jocked up american frat house type word and also because everytime anybody said 'owned', Eoin would perk his ears up and think somebody was talking to him.

So I've taken the liberty of registering eoined.blogspot.com for Eoin and all he has to do is accept responsibilty of said blog and deliver us from boredom with daily tirades about life as a rockstar to be. Who could be bothered to log onto My Shite to read his other blog?

Eoin your username is MacHate and your secret password is bigdick, but that's not really a secret is it?

Now go blog Eoin; blog like you've never blogged before!

Hurray for boobies!

2005-10-01T12:36:00.000+01:00

Celebrated finishing the music video by heading out and getting really drunk again. There was no tequilla this time which helped with the lack of complete craziness but I was still drunk enough for there to be a healthy amount of craziness.

After spending a good two hours in the Winchester talking about nothing else but where to go next, we eventually decided to go to Down Under, or Major Toms or whatever it's called now. There was some crap live band playing, cheap ass drinks and lots of girls around. Got the mince pies off some fucking hottie wearing a J-Lo like oscar top, where you could almost see her boobs, but by the time I was drunk enough to chat her up there was a bunch of dudes around her.

On the way home I saw that J-Lo top bird sitting down on the Molly Malone putting her shoes on and went to talk to her. She was fucking pissed and had this nasty Dublin accent on her and was ranting to herself how there are no decent guys around. "I'm a really cool, nice, guy" I said to her as I looked down her top at her amazing boobies. She was too pissed though to notice me (and I was looking good last night. Do you ever get Self-Drunk-Vision? I saw myself in a mirror in Major Toms and I was like; man I'm fucking hot. Self-Drunk-Vision rocks). So I starts to walk off and all of a sudden she pulls her top apart and shows her amazingly huge boobs to the world, which resulted in a "Dude! Boobies!" to Calico Jak but he missed them.

They passed us by later on and I think I said something to them but they were having none of it, then the girl got her boobs out again and I said something like "Waaaaay!" and the girl punched me in the jaw, I was like, dude! Granted "WAAAYY!" is probably not the best thing to say to some girl who's just said there's no decent men around but she had her boobies out! What was I supposed to do? Tell her to put them away before she catches a cold?!? Anyway Calico Jak saw her boobies this time so everybody had a good time. Nights out where random girls get there tits out are the best.

Editing

2005-09-30T12:28:00.000+01:00

Was up till six this morning editing the footage together from The Walls gig and I'm glad to say the footage isn't the half-baked pile of shit I originally thought it was. In fact, the music video fucking rocks. Lead singer Steve (or is it Joe) and drummer Rory know how to turn an avid-editor on with their twirl's and they're head-banging and their musical pokery.

Only problem is I've developed a cold seemings my room is actually colder then my penthouse (attic) room in Birmingham. Only two days left to finish this and hopefully start and finish another music video. Taking into account I have to get pissed tonight, have a hangover tomorrow, then get drunk tomorrow night, that is going to be a difficult goal to achieve, but we shall see.

Back to work...

Lifestyles of the Poor and Semi-Famous

2005-09-29T15:21:00.000+01:00

So everything on The Walls shoot went great except for the shoot. Which, uhh, isn't so good. Got to hang out with the band before the gig; cool guys. Got to say "I'm with the band" a couple of times, as well as "We're friendlies; camera-men: Hired Geeks!". I also said "We have a second unit up on the boardwalk" and nobody batted an eyelid until I pissed myself laughing.

After lunch we got a speed-boat up the liffey to the pontoon the band was playing on, nicely located betwixt the bridges Millenium and Ha'penny. The Walls rocked to a packed boardwalk for 45 minutes while I realised I hadn't a clue what the fuck I was doing. Thankfully the scum of Dublin didn't decide to bottle us; apparently a girl from the previous lot who tried the same idea had her nose broken by a thrown can.

After the gig, Rory from The Walls took the helm of the speed-boat and almost killed us all on the way back. Good laugh though; good footage.

Went out that night with Marklarr, Bo and Calico Jak and got fucking wasted. It's Bo's fault for suggesting tequilla. Also, avoid Carnival on a Wednesday, it's fucking dead and the DJ is a bitch.

After that it was the pool tables upstairs in the Palace; that place has really let itself go. Where did all the slappers move on to? Did manage to chat up the only girls in the place, but Calico Jak hogged the hot girl called Mandy. I got stuck with the less attractive one who's name I can't remember; probably cause she wasn't hot.

The last hour is a complete blur, no recollection of leaving the palace or getting in, I do remember chatting up some wrecked older bird cause she had big tits, I swear if terrorists had big tits, I'd support them.

Pictures to follow...

I'm getting sick of coming up with title's...

2005-09-27T22:54:00.000+01:00

Back in Dublin for whoever is still looking at this site, expect regular dull updates salted with sentences of extreme offence.

Tomorrow I'm shooting The Walls play a live gig down by the quays, should be good fun. I'm gonna say to everybody I meet that "I'm with the band" including any people who are actually with the band, and that includes actual band members, specificially band members girlfriends. And mothers.

Backstreets back all right!

2005-09-26T00:01:00.000+01:00

Well hello! It's been a while, two months I believe. A lot has happened. So much so, I can't remember any of it.

There was a brief blogging hiatus after the biggest cock working in the shopping channel I work in found the humble abode of No Spaces and proceded to tell me he didn't think much of my oh so witty postings. Probably shouldn't call him a big cock seemings he knows about the site. After that there was an even briefer (i.e. longer) blogging hiatus when the powers that be decided to withdraw the internet connection from us poor souls working at said shopping channel. I mean we're stuck in the middle of nowhere, in an industrial estate in the middle of the middle of nowhere, where the only decent recreational sport is fucking teens pregnant, and we don't even have an internet connection. Fucking stoneage.

But to be honest, I don't have much to write about. I think it's because, I have other things I should be writing, professional things. Like the series of adverts I'm going to write for said shopping channel. Or the new book I'm gonna start. And the follow-up to said book. I believe that if I have a good idea to write about, I won't get any new ideas until I write that idea. That's why I haven't written anything good since I was 19, but anyway.

Here's some token posts for you to enjoy, but you won't cus they're shite.

Spillage

2005-09-25T23:54:00.000+01:00

One of the directors in work has this curse. He keeps spilling things on himself. He's like a fucking child; he needs a bib. Everytime you meet him on the train into work he's got dried-in coffee on his t-shirt and coffee marks running down his cup.

So all is dandy until one day, we're on the train, I'm taking a drink of water, and splosh, I spill it over myself. The Director looks at me and we both understand. The curse has been passed on. To me. Fuck...I used the word dandy in this paragraph.

Over the next few weeks I keep spilling things on myself. Beer, coke, water, kebab meat. All down my chest. And each time it happens, the director laughs at me.

Then, one day, lying down, looking sexy wearing just my boxers, I decided to have a tissue assisted wank.

Did you know the speed of ejaculation is like 25 m.p.h?

There was spillage.

Pick-Up Lines

2005-09-18T23:39:00.000+01:00

The following is a written conversation I found in my notepad between this girl Sam who I was trying to score and her friend Donna, on a very drunk night out in Birmingham. It was spread out across twenty pages written in big drunk handwriting.

-------------------------------------------
Me: I AM DAVID YOU ARE DEAF :P !

Her: My name is Sam

Me: Yeah I heard, wanna go talk somewhere quiter?

Her: YES WHY NOT!!! hahahaa YES

Me: SAM IS COOL =)

Me: SAM IS A PLONKER!

Her friend: David is a geek!

Me: Sam has psychic abilities!!!

Her: Whats that then!!

Me: What's what? You're bum?!?

Me: Totally confused. CONFUSED!

Her: Whats my physic ambilties?

Me: I DUNNO :/

Her: Whats your number..

*An unfinished game of x's and o's*

Her: 078434335232! Yars is?

Me: I'm only joking :)

Her friend: Give her your number!!

Me: You're smelly!!

Me: You're so very sensitive yet nice! :P!

Her: Well am I wasting my time???

Her: Well am I wasting my time???

Me: Sam is not smelly only David and Donna!!

*Next page torn out*

Me: Sam is really cool!!

Her: We will see if David is cool???! !!hahahahaha!!

Her: If you want me tx me + send me flowers through the post!!

Me: Aww, girls are so nice =)

Me: Girls are smelly

Her: Which one!!? Make your mind up?? Men are smelly + confusing + strange!!

Me: Boys are mean to Sarah. Sarah is a smelly girl!

Me: Donna is also smelly!

Her friend: So is David!! A lot!!
------------------------------------------------------

That was the last message. Thankfully we were all so drunk she didn't realize I started calling her Sarah instead of Sam. After that I scored your one Sam, then I think she felt bad for not agreeing to go back to mine so she said I could share a taxi with her and her friend. Only I had ran out of money by that point so left them with the bill. Then in my drunkness I text that one Sam, and thankfully never heard from her ever again.

The moral of the story is: It's fun chatting up mingers cause you can say whatever the fuck you want and still get with them, cause you're hotter, and they need it more.

Ahh, alcohol...

I bet Chris Morris shops here...

2005-09-15T23:34:00.000+01:00

Yay! The IRA aren't gay anymore!

2005-08-01T00:04:00.000+01:00

Nice to see they finally grew some balls and stopped their gay ass terrorist tactics. They used to have guts; storming Dublin, holding out against the might of the British Empire for days, and while politics is no way near as cool as that, it's still heaps better then blowing the shit out of people up like cowards.

So did anybody else think it was strange that the British army started bugging out of Northern Ireland the day after the IRA's announcement? Think about it, surely it would be up to the IRA to make the first move, by disclosing the location to a bunch of destroyed weapons, then after that's released to the world, the British Government starts closing down watch-towers.

Now for my conspiracy theory, which is, in fact, the truth, i.e. absolute bollocks. Here's how it goes, England starts getting the crap blown out of it by radical Al Qaeda fundy's and realise they're up shit alley. Then they realise they also have terrorist fundy's in Northern Ireland to deal with and decide that seemings they haven't been able to beat a one front guerilla war for the last 100 years, there's no way they're gonna be able to handle a two front guerilla war. They pick the lesser of two evils, realise they've been dicking over Ireland for 800 years and get in touch with the IRA and say 'announce you're giving up the bomb campaign and our dicks will be a lot easier to suck next time we go into talks.'

The IRA go 'How do we know you won't dick us over? We'll need a show of confidence' and the English say, 'the day after you announce it, we'll start withdrawing troops'; troops with years of experience dealing with terrorism which would be far more useful in London or some other British city in the deterance of terrorist activities. It's all a conspiracy damn you! You'll read about it in years to come!

England loss is Irelands gain, lets hope those Al Qaeda fundy's stay the fuck away from me in Birmingham, I'm busy trying to have repatriation sex with English women for all those years of Irish oppression at the hands of the British. It's a blow job for everytime an English girl mentions "potato's". Damn I make politics fun for me and my penis.

Work's a bitch...

2005-07-17T23:50:00.000+01:00

Look what we found in a crisp packet today...

Update: It's back up! E-Bay took it down cause we used a bold word, oh well!

Greetings and Salutations...

2005-07-05T22:06:00.000+01:00

The Bangkok Salute had it's first rehearsal today, a good four years overdue. Only three of us in the band, and we each have a secret codename, there's me, David Deaf, John is called Balls to the Wall and Eoin is known as Foot Fetish. Why we are called those names I have no idea.

Anyway, Eoin is the only person with any musical know-how, so the rehearsal basically involved Eoin doing something on the guitar, then I'd tell him how it should go doing guitar noises with my mouth which would make John look at me as if I was insane, but how else was I supposed to get my musical vision across? Actually learn the guitar? Fuck that shite.

When I got down there Eoin and John had just finished doing a song called...well, best not repeat it's name or lyrics here, but needless to say it'll get them arrested. Then I got out the CD covers for the next few Bangkok Salute albums that I did for some crappy college project a few years ago. One of them even has a track listing, so we had a look at the songs, and decided to come up with the music for the first track, entitled 'Hello'. Man, coming up with the songs names is the tough part, doing the music is easy.

Just a pity I have to go off to Engerland and The Bangkok Salute has to be postponed once more. However, us three sonic terrorists will no doubt continue our musical takeover in various guises. Me, I'm gonna start a band in Engerland called 'The Rubber Bullets'. Coming up with a band name is the tough part, the music is eaaasy. The Rubber Bullets: Shooting Blanks In Your Face!

Makey-uppy

2005-07-05T02:32:00.000+01:00

Got quite a few 'sorry I can't make it' messages for my birthday, and quite a few more 'I'm soooo sorry I didn't make it!' messages after seeing my blog entry aboot my crap birthday. I think the worst attempt at an apology was the following...
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Maybe that made sense to NEO, but to non-matrix friendly people like myself it made as much sense as a flirtatious woman! The message was of course sent by irritable commentator Conor to try and appease my loserness. It shows a complete lack of sensitivity towards my unpopularity, no doubt brought on by my public admition of sexual feeling towards his mother, or in laymans terms "Your ma!"

In other news...

What were the three girls I was supposed to wank off to tonight? Oh wait I remember, Katie Holmes, Big Tits Saskia from Big Brother and Alicia Silverstone...man this addition to this post was pointless, only pointing out the fact that I wank, a normal person would just delete this part of the post, knowing they had remmebred their mastabutory elements of their night out...

Well...g'nigh'...

Blogger Photos

2005-07-03T16:33:00.000+01:00

Man the new blogger photos function doesn't mind sucking dick and will swallow! You can post pictures up and click on them and make them bigger, brilliant! Let me now post some cool photos up...

Worst Birthday Ever. EVER!

2005-07-02T16:54:00.000+01:00

Well, it was always going to be shite wasn't it? With such big names like Paddy, Donal, Grover, Mac and Kev dropping out of the proceedings before they'd even begun. Kevin hardcoreingly managed to show up, but at the expense of Conor, Cillian, Deco, and a pair of tits I'd invited along.

The fact that nobody was on for getting pished in the afternoon in the Pav was hard to take as well. Especially seemings I brought the weather over with me. Again.

Was stuck watching Live 8 for the afternoon. I mean, what's with that? I can see half a billion African kids going 'Yeah cheers, we need food not fucking musical notes you Irish twat'. And the whole thing is about 'building awareness' and not giving money? Fucking brilliant. So we get to enjoy the music and not have to worry about dying people. I say those eight people Live 8 was meant for feel really popular knowing all those concerts were put on for them.

But anyway, after starting off in Karma I began to feel really sick, added to the fact nobody was showing up. Then we went to the suckfest that was Eamon Dorans, with every drunk twat in the place shouting and cheering in support of the TV playing Live 8. That TV really was rocking hard. Then some people arrived and some people left, and I ended up in the suckfest that was Azolda's Tower being told some dude fancies me. Thankfully Mr. Jack Daniels and Mr. Kev made me enjoy the final few hours of the night.

No photos due to lack of interest.

Reservoir Ducks

2005-07-01T16:07:00.000+01:00

Just a stones throw from my house (it's not really but I did get five out of five in grenade throwing in the RDF so it's throw away for me bitch)is Edgbaston Reservoir. I'd only really been down there after drunken nights out to laugh at all the cars parked and the people scoring inside those parked cars.

Finally took a stroll down on my day off and it's a damned nice place I have to say. My advice, keep walking till you can't hear any crap music blasting from all the cars parked in the bench area and you'll have yourself a nice stroll. There's a good little spot I found which is good for the 'sitting down and looking like a cool young writer dude' type-vibe one might want to portray.

Only bad thing aboot the spot is dogs invariably decide to run down into the water to chase away the ducks and then leg it past you covering you in sand and water.

Speaking of ducks, there seemed to be one rapist-duck intent on shagging all the other ducks. Every so often there'd be a comotion and this duck would try and jump on another duck. That duck would make for the skies and rape-duck would follow in hot pursuit. Fucking rapist ducks. I hate them.

Birthday Boy

2005-06-24T15:36:00.000+01:00

Managed to pull some strings in work and got my birthday off so I'll be flying into Dublin full throttle on the 2nd of July, I'll bring the sun with me and I'll see ya's all on the grass in the Pav for some afternoon beers followed by drinks in a pub.

Last trip to Dublin will be hard to beat, so we're going to have to push the envolope on this night out...

A Bug's Life

2005-06-23T15:41:00.000+01:00

Did the coooolest thing ever t'other day. Having just been sitting on the grass at the train station I noticed an ant crawling over my bag on the train. The ant had obviosly stupidly crawled onto my bag and was now on a one way ticket to worlds end, aka Redditch. I was just going to set him free on the train, to fend for himself but instead I decided to do the impossible/ riddiculous.

I put him in a little zip lock bag and put a note on it saying "Drop me off at Five Ways, please, I am lost". Then I attached the note to the bag with a safety pin I keep handy seemings half my trousers have holes in the crotch.

At Redditch I put the bag and note down on a chair and noticed that a responsible secretary type girl was walking in the general direction of the chair. I'll never know if that ant got home, but later that night, walking back to my house, I saw a safety pin on the ground.

A message from Mr. Ant perhaps? Or, simply a safety pin? We will never know...

The Worst Sentence in the English language is...

2005-06-19T04:26:00.000+01:00

"You missed the best night ever last night".

And I'm afraid that everybody except me, Donal, Eoin, Loreana and half of Grafton Street will have to feel the pain of that sentence today, cause last night fucking ROCKED!

A True Classic of the Zeroes

2005-06-18T17:07:00.000+01:00

YES! I finally got the song I've been craving after. A song called 'Nun! Weasel! Priest!' by this girl who sang it whislt stoned and drunk at some dorm party in Dublin.

My friend was talking to her on MSN today and I told him to get her to record it for me sometime, we got chatting and thanks to the wonders of modern technology and flattery, she agreed to record the song then and there. Few minutes later I had the song.

It fucking rocks. In Loreana's own words "It was originally a drawing that I did; I was drawing a nun, and it looked like a weasel, and I put a priest collar on it by accident, coz I was stoned, so I called it Nun Weasel Priest!".

Brilliant. From drawing, to song, to my playlist. I'll send it to whoever wants it, so all can enjoy the genius that is...

NUN! WEASEL! PRIEST!

Shattering Glass....

2005-06-17T16:09:00.000+01:00

Last year in Wolves I kept breaking chairs. It was like, my motif, my plant, the thing I did that followed me around. Musta been about three chairs I broke. One did help me get laid though.

Anyway, this year it's glass. Glass keeps fucking shattering by my head. Take one deleted blog entry entitled "Welcome to Ham". I was on the way to Birmingham from Wolves, passing by a small wall when all of a sudden I see a head duck behind said wall. All of a sudden I see something shoot past and the window thuds. Next thing another object shoots past and all of a sudden the window fucking explodes by my head. Thank fuck it was shatterproof otherwise I'd be writing this in brail, or some other blind joke.

So, there I am, window falling to pieces, and I'm on the first bus ever with seatbelts. I'm doing my bestest to get out before the thing collapses onto me. I tell the bus driver and he says he has to go back to Wolves. Fucking clever clogs decides to go back the same way and the bloody Viet Cong pelt the bus again. Idiot! Gosh!

Then in town t'other night we were about to get into a taxi when some chav comes up to the half rolled down window of said taxi and starts pulling it back and forth, I go up to him and tell him to stop post haste when the thing fucking explodes all over me. There was a police car parked down the road so I legged it up to them to tell them what happened. They speed off, and I proceeded the chase on foot, but neither of us caught them. If only there were some pesky kids around we woulda foiled him.

THEN, t'other day we were in a friend from works house and my friend bloody knocks a frame off the wall which smashes everywhere.

I tell ya I'm expecting to be sucked out the window of the plane on the way home.

My going away shindig...

2005-06-16T13:58:00.000+01:00

I was all set to make a post full of photomographs of my going away par-tay in Doyles but got too lazy. And then...

Marklarr set up a Live Journal and did an even better job. Looksie at the photos here. The only thing lacking is the picture of the girl who looked really hot until she took her cap off and I realised she had a mullet. Sweet jeebus for some strange reason I was only more aroused. I especially liked our goodbye to one another...

Hot/Ugly Mullet Girl (To her friend): Bye James...
Me: See ya, are ya off?
*Hot/Ugly Mullet Girl nods and walks off*
Me: Cause......cause I'll fuck ya if ya want?

Splendid comedy. Right now click here to look at the rest of Marks LJ. ExceptEoincauseitcontainsaphotoofyourexandherfriendkissingmewhich
mightbringbackalotofpainfulmemoriesandbitterfeelingstowardsyourex
girlfriendherfriendandmeforwhichIcanonlyapologisefornotbeingaround
todomypatentedGetOverAGirlvideonightfeaturingmoviesaboutbeing
dumpedandporn!

R.I.P. Enetation Comments...

2005-06-15T13:45:00.000+01:00

Just like Helen Hunt in Castaway, I've had to move on from the missing Tom Hanks that is my comments and move to a newer, better, version, of...I think it was Mr. Big was it? From Sex in the City? As Helen Hunt's new fella? Grover can you answer that? I dunno. Anyway, all the old comments are gone. All my smart arse replies to your smart ass comments are gone. I know...I know...I'm having trouble with it too...but the good thing is...

I've picked a new template! Yes it took me ages to design the click that would give me a new website. I was thinking of doing a long swooosh of a mouse move in to click it, or a slowly decreasing circular mouse action, but in the end I just pointed and clicked. Retro.

Anyway, I like the newly designed website, it's bright, and it's happy, and it looks slightly like Mac's website. Cool...

Also...Englands changed me man...changed me for the worse. For starts, I like the Stereophonics all of a sudden, man Dakota and Superman just rock. Secondly...I enjoyed a new episode of the Simpsons. Me. People think the reason I'm angry and bitter is over my tourmultuous relationships with insane women. It's not. It's over The Simpsons. Well I saw a new episodes and damnit it was good. There was another third thing but I've forgotton now. Anyway, I don't want to get in the way of you commenting so snap to it you conniving commentaters!

Best Comeback EVER!

2005-06-14T11:00:00.000+01:00

I've been meaning to post about this for ages now, but wanted to add a photo and didn't have the time to. I am of course, talking about the greatest comeback in the history of football. No I'm not talking about Liverpool's amazing three second half goals against Milan, I'm talking about Gems TV's fightback against those evil 'Who Wants to be a Millionaire' making bastards Celador!

For weeks people were talking about the Broadcasting Soccer Five-A-Side competition coming up, people were talking about the team, yet my name was never mentioned. Maybe it was because I sucked ass in the game of football we all played a few weeks prior. But, the night before the tournament, I was called in at the 25th hour.

We drove down to London, and got as far as the quarter finals, with me being used as a sub for the most part, seemings I suck ass at football. Still we only conceded one goal when I was on the pitch. Then came the quarters. At half-time, we were 4-0 down.

That's when I came on.

Super subs usually do something spectacular with the first touch of the ball. Instead, I did something spectacular with the first touch of an opposing player. I fucking hoofed him out of it.

He musta been twice my size, and however I did it, I managed to take him to the ground, while simultaneosly sending my legs into the air and landing smack down on my head. Apparently my eyes were rolling around after that but I picked myself up and we managed to claw four goals back until the poxy ref blew the whistle. 5 - 4 final score. So close, yet so far.

It was a spirited comeback, possibly the greatest of all times, and without a doubt, Steven Gerrard was thinking of me as Liverpool fucked AC Milan over in the Champions League Final. Thinking of me in a sexual way, not in an inspiring way.

Cause I suck at football.

The Joy of...Sleep

2005-06-12T22:47:00.000+01:00

I think I prefer Irish girls. Irish girls reject me straight up, so therefore I never really talk to any, therefore can't feel bad about them disliking my personality. Where as English girls actually talk to me, then reject me, making me feel crap about my shite persona around women.

Case in point: It's Friday night, I'm in town with work friends, fresh from my victory in the Super Bomberman Tournament held in the Playboy Mansion (my place). One girl from work has her friend out. Brunette, nice tits, cute face, she's called Emily and she has a really cool posh voice. Her second name is Basley, which sounds like Bisley, the second name of Tim from Spaced, Bonus points. She also likes Spaced, Triple-Double Bonus Points + Marriage Cross with Valor Device. I find her friends lost bag, I make her laugh, I have conversations with my talking R2-D2 toy, she's loving it.

Her friend is getting laid by my Playboy Mansion housemate Steve, so she has to stay the night.

'You can sleep in my bed if ya like' I say to her not adding 'nudge, nudge, hint, hint, fuck, fuck'. Much to my delight, she's agree's.

'I'll be back in a jiffy' I say as I run up the stairs and dump the messy clothes covered floor into my walk-in wardrobe. In she comes and she gets into bed wearing my Italian Euro 1996 football jersey and I get in beside her. Then we talk for ages about stuff like, my craply decorated room, my book that I wrote which I refuse to tell her anything about, hell we even let R2 join in a conversation or two.

But no, lord forbid there would be any sex. Hell even a kiss was out of the question. And as much as I love sleeping, I generally don't like doing it when there's a hot English girl in the bed next to me.

Oh well, least her friend got her tits out earlier on in the night. Home on Wednesday for four days, and I'm really looking forward to some non-girl interaction to boost my flailing confidence.

Hari-bo'h!

2005-06-06T16:33:00.000+01:00

Apologies for the lack of updates, e-mail posting wouldn't work and couldn't get access to t'internet. As well as that the comments seem to be down for some reason. I dunno. Try and fix it now. Tons to write about of course, but I got to get my haircut so I won't get to tell yis all aboot it, but expect a posting about more Disaster On The Women Front, A Trip Down to London, Gay Pride Day in B'rum, and uhh, I'm sure there's more not that I can think of at the moment.

Things are grand with me anyway, got paid and bought an X-Box, I have to stop beating my housemate at Pro Evo cause he won't play me anymore.

In work it was decided the Floor Managers should be miced up so the presenters could talk to them, but apparently the owner of the company saw me talking and immiedietly announced that floor should not be miced up. The presenter was talking about the fact he had a mouse in his house, I think the conversation went like this...

Presenter: Whats the best way to get rid of a mouse?
Me: Get a cat,
Presenter: But then I have a cat, whats the best way to get rid of a cat?
Me: A dog...
Presenter: But then I have a dog, what's the best way to get rid of a dog?
Me: A gun?

Then things took a turn for the Haribo when one of the directors realised I looked like the Haribo Kid...

Damnit!

I was hoping that would stay in Ireland. Apparently I look like tons of people, a list will go up soons I can mess around with photos again.

Oh and just so everybody knows, my nickname on screen is now Diamond Dave. Think it sounds like a harcore London Mafia type person. Anyways I'm off to figure out the comment feature, later.

Blogger just ate my post.

2005-05-27T01:53:00.000+01:00

Rot in hell cunt.

Who wears short-shorts?

2005-05-20T21:13:00.000+01:00

Hey all, I have a test e-mail post on it's way, so if that works there should be more regular updates. Till then I'll sneak this post in while nobody is looking in work. Just to say I had a 25 word short-short story published on sigla magazine's site, it's crap-tacular! Go read, I think it's the best 25 word short-short story ever. EVER!

Things that have gone wrong today...

2005-05-05T17:06:00.000+01:00

1) I slept with earplugs in for the first time to try and sleep through the stupid German's loud morning music. Bizarly, every time I'd fall asleep I'd wake up again wondering were they working...

2) No square sausages left over for breakfast!

3) I spend a lot of stupid seconds closing a bunch of windows on the bus, only to discover the person I sit in front of is smoking a smelly cigerette.

4) I get to the train station on time only to spend five minutes waiting to get served. Miss train, have to wait half an hour for next train to work.

5) Arriving in Redditch, with only five minutes remaining before I'm officialy late for training with my punctual-happy manager, I decide to get into the taxi of the slowest taxi driver ever. He spends the journey sucking on a sweet. At one stage he dribbles all down his mouth.

6) I arrive at work after spending a fiver on the fair only to stand around for 50 minutes as the manager gets everything in order. I leave two hours later having only got about half an hour's worth of training, and not even on the topic he said he was going to train us on.

7) While lounging around the crew room in work I ask a few people around would they like to rob one of my crisps. A girl comes out of the bathroom and I let her know she can have a crisp as well. She looks at me strangly. I find out later she thought I said 'I could hear you piss'.

8) Miss the bus into town which means I miss the train out of Redditch. The bus I do manage to get on is heading for a place called 'Worlds End'. Dear lord...

9) The guy in front of me in the internet cafe is sneezing so hard afterwards he makes a disgusting post-orgasmic moan. He sneezes then goes 'Oooooh!'. I'm not joking.

10) Waiting for the next train, me Steve and Ollie go to a dodgy Redditch cafe and Ollie gets a cup of tea. Seemings the grumpy old woman behind the till annoyed me last time I was in there I go to another place and bring back some food, ignoring the 'patrons only' sign. A few moments later Grumpy Old Woman comes over to tell me I can't eat my food there. Swallowing my last bite I smile at her as charmingly as I can and say 'Good thing I've already finished'. Not charming enough it turns out as her next words were "Get out of here then! Ya come in, ya don't buy any food!". I look at her with my mouth wide open not believing I succesfully managed to get kicked out of a cafe. She gets even more agro and we all decide it's time to leave the cafe, and leave Redditch.

11) The FA have just ruled in favour of Everton getting the champions league spot if they finish 4th and Liverpool win the Champions League.

12) My day is only half-finished and I'm trying to decide should I go out with work friends tonight and excorcise the bad memory of the day or has the days events been a premonition of worse things to come...

13) I only have another 30 seconds of credit left in this internet cafe so I don't know if I'll have time to finish this sent-

GRENADE!!!

2005-04-28T13:45:00.000+01:00

Had my first great night out in England the other night. After playing some football, (had a terrible game and sliced my knee open) I met up with Steve, Cool Scottish director Eric and technician Ryan in this mad classy place called the Mailbox. BBC Midlands have their offices there and there's tons of great bars by the canal. Bring a girl down there and she'd be just dripping to wet your dock.

After there we headed into town; there was a huge que outside Walkabout so we decided to go to a crappy 80's themed bar called Reflex complete with bargirls with 'Frankie says Reflex' t-shirts on.

Double jack daniels and coke was only three quid so I had about four of them, and eventually got talking to the amazingly stunning bargirl who I'd been getting my drinks off. Turns out she's Irish herself so I'll have to head back to Reflex sometime and see if she's stupid enough to go out with me.

Bouncers started kicking us out at two when this woman, who was so big she shoulda had a blowhole on her back, came up to us and asked did we want to go back to her hotel and drink with her friends. We had a look at them: Two gay guys and some girl who was stumbling around the place. Despite our fears we'd be asked to engage in some sort of fucked up orgy, we decided to go back for the late bar.

Soon enough the three friends had gone to bed and Ryan was left talking with Orca as me, Steve and Eric got talking to a bunch of suits at the bar. Eric starts going mad at them, slagging off their suits and shouting shite at their boss, while me and Steve are listening to this mad Northern Irish twat waffle on to us.

Ryan comes back to us and says he's thinking of going back to Orca's room just to get an atomic diddy-ride and a blow job. So a while later he disappears upstairs while we convince some writer for Maxim Magazine to buy us a round of drinks seemings you need a room to use the bar. At about four we decided we'd better call it a night, only for the three of us to be stopped in the bathroom by Drunken Northern Irish Twat. He looks at us, points at Eric and goes 'You're ok', points at Steve and goes 'You're ok', then points at me and goes 'You're a cunt!'.

So the guy challenges me to a fight and I'm like, fuck this, and go to walk out but he stops me. Then Steve freaks out and tells him he can have a fight if he wants one and I politely remind him that there's three of us and only one of him. That changed his tune and soon he was hugging us and apologising. We told him to fuck off and walked outside. A fantastic potato of a night, and all thanks to Ryan sleeping with the Essex girl. Sometimes ya have to jump on the grenade so your friends can drink on...

Defeat! DEFEATDEFEATDEFEAT!

2005-04-24T12:46:00.000+01:00

I'm sitting in Ikhti's slightly hungover after last night's Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy pyjama party which was a great laugh. Lots of girls going around in pyjama's. I've always found pyjama's to be a turn on, I dunno why. Maybe it's because it's the last line of defence. Usually there's coats, and shirts and bra's to be talked out of, but with pyjama's, couple of compliments, belly full of booze and you're in.

Anyway, walked into S.U. and there's this huge bouncy castle type thing with two small platforms where people were playing bouncy gladiator games on it. Had a shot of it later in the night playing against Dave H and Steve. I lost like 11 games. Won once. I couldn't believe it. Last time I played that game in Ireland I kicked ass. I was like Obi-Wan Kenobi, yielding an oversized soft lightsaber.

I blame the ref, she was against me from the start. Especially seemings when she asked us did we have anything sharp with us, I replied "Only my wit". So after losing the gladiator game, I challenged Dave H to a pyjama-putting-on-game in order to win a cool Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy towel. Lost that game as well. Ridiculous. I had my tactics right, get the shirt on first, then jump into the bottoms, but alas in my haste I buttoned up the shirt wrong and lost on a technicality. Dave won the towel but he gave it to me seemings I gave him the pleck that Vern threw from the stage during that CKY gig we went to last year.

After that I drank some pan-galactic gargle blasters and spent about half an hour talking to some Welsh girl only to find out she had a boyfriend. All I got out of her was a Hitchhikers button she won. My only victory of the night. Still, those pan-galactic gargle blasters are good squishy.

Then we all went back to Ikhti's friends room. Earlier they had kept me waiting in Asda for half an hour as they decided on what spirits they should buy. Wouldn't even listen to my suggestions of Kahlua, Vodka, and the oft difficult to find carton of milk. Instead they went with vodka, alcho-pops and a bottle of Galiano. Bloody Galiano.

I was too pissed to even think about having any more alcohol at that stage but I still challenged Ikthi and then Dave to a game of Fifa Football. Lost twice. Dave might have beat me ten times that night, but all he got to go home with was his girlfriend, where as I got to go home with a towel! Ha! In your face Dave!

So...good weather we've been having, huh?

2005-04-23T17:55:00.000+01:00

Well I'm at a computer so I suppose I should update. But what about? I hate doing these general 'what's going on with me' updates. They're so shite and boring. It's more fun spouting off cool shit I've done when drunk.

Only problem is I haven't been that drunk of late. Only twice since I've come over. Amazing I know. That's what happens when you work for a living. In fact, the last time I was out, I got so drunk I went home early. It was a new experience for me but a good one. We went to Asda and got cheese puffs then watched Anchorman, officially the funniest movie I've ever seen while drunk.

Cooked my first dinner yesterday. Was gonna go with microwavable burgers but instead went balls out and had chicken, roast potato's and chips. Took an hour to cook but it was fried gold. Other then that I've been living off square sausages that I found in this frozen food shop that sells everything for a pound. They're great. I've also been going to MacDonalds a lot but that's just to try and talk to the waitress girl who was giving me the mince pies one day in there.

Tonight I'm heading to the S.U. cause it's a Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy themed dressing gown and pyjama party on. Quid a drink, and it'll give me an excuse to buy that dressing gown I've been after.

Well, that was boring...more later...

First Week...

2005-04-12T23:39:00.000+01:00

Well I'm off to Birmingham. Again. Was back in Dublin last two days because my great grandfather, Harry Reynolds, a famous cyclist, was, getting a, street named, after, him,,,,. Being the last Reynolds male on the planet I had to be in attendence. As if I wasn't under enough pressure with women, now it's up to me to continue the Reynolds line. It's doomed I tell thee!

But anyway, the job is going well you'll be pleased to hear. Snatch It, is unfortunatly closing down to make way for some jewelry shopping channel, so it's been hectic as the station tries to sell off it's warehouse stock as fast as it can. Everybody keeps telling me 'You couldn't have started at a worse time' but I think I've coped pretty well so far. Even been dragged in front of the camera a few times, where I dazzled the digital world with my good looks, wit, and good looks. It's been hard actually doing 'work', but it's still a great laugh.

Because the station is closing, the management have been selling stock off at cost price. We're talking cheap DVD players, Digital cameras, mini-fridges, uhh...cutlery. What did I pick up? A framed photo of Princess Leia in a gold bikini. How's that for a slice of fried gold?

Also I've already moved into my new place. It's about 10 minutes on the bus from Birmingham and it's pretty nifty. Huge room, double bed, a desk beside two patio doors that open out into a little garden. Only problem is the guy next door who was blasting some crappy radio show at 6.30 in the morning while running water through creaking pipes that made me think a jumbo-jet was about to smash through the roof. He better be quiet from now on otherwise I'll shove a strawberry alarm clock up his ass.

Not much girl news. All the girls in work are hotties. Which is noway near as important as the fact that they're all really cool and friendly and nice. Which is good for my battled scarred heart. As well as that I think one of the presenters definatly wants herself a slice of Dave R. Why do I say that? Because she touched my arm.

You heard me.

Touched. My. Arm.

While she only 'said' goodbye to everybody else, she said goodbye, AND, touched my arm. Girls never do that in Ireland.

I'm off anyway in five hours so I'll say goodbye. If anybody has digital, tune into channel 663, and ya might see me in the background. Checking out the presenters ass. Giggidy!

Anybody see a blonde in a white T-Bird around here?

2005-04-05T23:29:00.000+01:00

Well, my flight leaves in six and a half hours, figured I'd better write a farewell post. No fucking idea what to say of course. I'll have internet access whenever I visit friends in Wolves, so I'll still be able to update this place, but not as regular as before.

I really don't know what the fuck I'm doing. I'm watching American Graffiti now, when I really should be sleeping, and I'll quote you some wonderful relevant cheese from the movie in a second when the part plays...

Before that happens, just to say when I go the old link-warp drive is gonna be switched off as I won't have access to the internet in England. No worries, I get most of my link-warps from Thighs Wide Shut, diztopia, and the jizz de la jizz, The b3ta Newsletter. Maybe Donal could take command of the link-warp drive?

If you haven't already, download the song Breakfast Roll from Calico Jak's site. It's hang-over cure for your ears.

Everybody is welcome over to England of course. I'll guarantee you a bunch of free beers care of Snatch-It Television (still lovin' the name) as well as a couch to sleep on. Would be good fun.

Ahh, here we go with the movie. I'll set the scene; Steve is leaving town the next day to go to college when Laurie pops out with...

It doesnt make sense to leave home for a new home. To give up a life to find a new life. To say goodbye to friends you love just to find new friends.

Now, in the movie, Steve, Ron Howards character, is adament about going, but in the end doesnt, while the character Richard Dreyfuss plays, Kurt, doesn't want to go, but in the end he does. I've always related more to Kurt ( searching for dazzling beauty of his life, never scores) then to Steve (has girlfriend, scores), but now, I think I'm less like Kurt and more like Steve.

I kinda feel like it's something I really have to do though. I mean, I have to get a job at some stage. And this seems like a pretty cushy number. While my family aren't the easiest to get on with at the best of times, I'm still gonna miss them. And then there's all you guys who I'm gonna miss the most.

Damn, I'm getting all emotional here. Thank God I showered earlier with Johnson & Johnson's No Tears shampoo...