The return of Bilbo and Frodo

On another occasion Bilbo and Frodo came to see me in Prague. We’re sitting in the pub with me, my boss (Pierce) and a bunch of salesmen. All of these guys are arguing over who is the best without actually getting anywhere. It goes on and on and frankly we’re getting bored.

Pierce turns to Frodo:

Pierce: So what do you do?

Frodo: I’m a scientist.

Pierce: Are you any good?

Frodo: I’m OK

Pierce: I asked you a fucking question. Are you any good?

Frodo: Well, there are five, possibly six people in the world better than me.

Pierce (stunned): Well…. That’s pretty fuckin good!

End of conversation. Fifteen salesmen sitting there, with their tails between their legs. Good work Frodo.

U2 - Beautiful day

It just makes you feel really good. Me and Bilbo met Bono one night. Bilbo’s brother Nougat asked later “what did you say to him?” Bilbo replied “Hey Bono, pass me my jacket”

On another occasion me and Bilbo go out for a few bevvys and then hit a club. We’re not into clubbing but the pub was closed so it was the only beer option available. So there we are settling into our drinks, trying to find some hot fanny and failing miserably. Next thing we know my ex is there with her new beau. This wasn’t a huge problem, we exchanged glances and everyone went about their business. Except for one of new beau’s mates. He decided he was a hard man and it was time for me to get a slap.

Children! Fighting is bad. Only silly boys fight and it really is a childish thing to do. However, sometimes these things happen so here is my advice in three handy steps.

Talk. Try to talk it out. If that means swallowing your pride as opposed to his fist then eat that shit up. Pride tastes a whole lot better than a knuckle sandwich.

Walk. If the talking didn’t work then walk away. Be aware, some twats will try to hit you as you leave so back up then walk away. Walking may turn into running. Some might suggest this is a pussy maneuver, but they are full of shit. I’ve run from fights because I feared for my life and didn’t want the ever loving shit beat outta me. They don’t run in movies because they have a script. Life doesn’t have a script, so if it’s run o’clock, lace up your Nike’s and get the fuck outta Dodge.

Fight. This is the very last option and shouldn’t be engaged in lightly. Sadly these days there is no honour so if you’re in a pub brawl expect bottles, glasses and odds of 3 against 1. I was bottled by a guy recently and it wasn’t fun. It was more fun for me than him though. Silly Englishman. The worst part is that even if you win the cops will probably show up and you’re back in the shit. We should bring back dueling, that’d be fucking wicked.

There is a good chance you’ll get throttled, but if you’ve followed my drinking mantra you won’t feel too bad until the morning.

Back to the story. This dude now wants to kick six colours of shit outta me. Needless to say, I’m not really into that plan so we have reached an impasse. In steps Bilbo, buys this dude a beer and gives him an eager ear to listen to his woes. Bilbo suggests I get a cab so I exit and head home. Being in the state I am I, head back to Bilbo’s to see who’s there, have a few more beers and pass out on the sofa.

I wake up in the early a.m., grab a coke and a smoke and turn on the box. Ten minutes later Bilbo stumbles in the door looking like a piece of shit. He looks at me and giggles, I giggle and then we break down into a laughing fit for ten minutes. He proceeds to tell me that the dickhead in the club just wanted to kill me. Bilbo disagreed with this so challenged said dickhead’s manhood through his drinking ability. They went back to the dude’s friends house and proceeded to prove their manliness.

Bilbo tried the whisky route but dickhead was still talking about killing me. Left with little in the way of options, Bilbo kicked it up a notch and opened a bottle of Tequila. When the bottle was dry dickhead was unconscious, upside down in a chair and Bilbo got a cab. Good work Bilbo.

That’s not the only time Bilbo has bailed me out of a scrap. Those of you that know me understand I have an opinion on everything. I’m always right, especially when I’m drinking.

Green Day – Are we the waiting

I saw these guys in Bangkok and they were fucking awesome. A wall of sound but it wasn’t noise. This was my son’s first concert and the mosh pit scared him shitless. He’s a fairly solid young lad so he looked at me and I said wade in buddy. He didn’t like that plan so I waded in. I realized the next morning that I’m far too old for shit like that. I was hurting badly.

My mates

Rather large last night, many beers, a few rounds of shooters finished off with pints of vodka. Liver ain’t happy, but I’m currently interviewing for a new one so I’ll have the last laugh there.

The 2 Live Crew – Banned in the USA

The first group to be banned in the US. These guys can’t sing, can’t play and they are complete idiots. But this tune has a wicked beat. You’ve never heard of them but you know the tune “Oh me so horny”. That’s them.

I have a couple of great friends in Ireland (and they only cost $10 a month!) that are, for want of a better word, lunatics. These guys are intelligent, hard working people with families, but the reason I love them is because they are pissheads. These guys can give the Oxford debate team a run for their money, but only when they’re hammered. My relationship with them is kinda like a Tarantino movie. I’m not always sure where it’s going, the dialogue is unique, but I always walk away feeling good and questioning life and the universe.

Now, that shit might sound a bit sappy but allow me to explain. What follows are a few examples of discussions / adventures / arguments that we have been party to. It probably doesn’t need to be explained, but for the record these all happened while consuming beverage. To protect the guilty I’ve changed their names to Bilbo and Frodo, but mainly I changed them because it’ll annoy the shit outta them. Revenge is a dish best served cold, fuckers!

Some of these take place around Mrs Mc’s kitchen table. You don’t know her but she’s a legend, a second mother to me. It must be noted that like all Irish mothers Mrs Mc is part chef, nurse, psychiatrist and ninja. She can beat the shit outta anybody but will dress the wounds, prove to them it was their own fault and make them a cup of tea.

So we’re sitting around the table one day and the subject turns to traffic. A suggested solution to bad drivers, offered by Bilbo, is incendiary ferrets. Yes, you read that right. Incendiary ferrets.

Stripped _ Depeche Mode

The original kings of synth pop, theses guys actually became rock stars. This is one of a number of wicked tracks from them. Make it loud.

The premise is very simple. Every car is fitted with a wheel mounted Ferret (Incendiary Mk IV) Launching System©. Each vehicle also has a touchscreen voting system, kinda like a GPS unit. The system displays nearby vehicles that may have committed a traffic violation and/or been just rude fuckers. You may then choose to vote for that vehicle. Once a vehicle has committed a number of offences the FLS© engages. I can’t remember the number we agreed on, but I know it was a variable, so some days 6 offences might be OK but on others it’d be 3. That keeps fuckers on their toes.

Once the FLS© is engaged it fires a flaming ferret (napalm covered, I believe) into the face of the offending driver. Now, the prudent and anal amongst you will have a number of problems with this idea. Fuck right off! It isn’t meant to be a proper solution to traffic management. I mean, think about it logically, how would the ferret survive for months inside the steering wheel?

The nasty people out there will think, “Why don’t I just vote for everybody?” And to be fair that was my first question. However, the system only allows votes for actual offenders and if you vote every time it’s offered your FLS© will eventually fire on you.

So maybe now you understand the caliber of my friends. They’re fuckin nuts.

Instruments

I just looked back over the shit I’ve written and it seems weird. Kinda like me but almost as if someone else had written it. Strange. I never realized how much bollox I could spew but now it’s obvious. If you have gotten this far, pat yourself on the back. Enjoy that pat, you deserve it. You’re either a lunatic or Irish (same thing?) but you got this far. Good work.

Bruce Hornsby & the Range – The way it is. This is a wicked tune. If you think it’s weak that’s because you’re young and know nothing about life. It’s brilliant lyrically, and the piano solo is fucking wicked. Listen to it again. If it hurts your ears then go back to the earlier shit I mentioned and start learning. Or fuck off. The choice is yours. The piano solo is wicked.

Did you ever want to learn how to play an instrument? As a kid I never wanted to know, but as a grown man (a childlike grown man some would say) I really wish I knew more about music. I think it would be mega to be able to play something. I listen to the bands in the pub and watch them play and there’s a litllle envy that I can’t do that. I don’t compare myself to them but the ability to play is something that I never wanted as a child. I was given the opportunity but at the time it was a chore and I didn’t want it.

Any young people that are reading this, continue with whatever you are learning now. It will pay massive dividends to you in the future. Knowledge of an instrument is a wonderful gift. Right now, you might think it’s shit, I don’t need it, but trust me on this, in the future it’ll pay dividends. Keep playing and enjoy it.

As Dave once said "Rock on mofo's"

What if porn was real

What would happen if porn was real?

A strange question I know, but it’s highly important. Whether we like it or not (I love it!) porn is a fact of life, particularly with the advent of the internet. Porn used to be a mythical thing in Catholic Ireland, kinda like some shit from Indiana Jones. The Holy Grail or Ark of the Covenant. When some dude had access to nudey shots he was revered for a day or two and elevated to hero status. His deity status lasted until something more interesting came along.

The fact that porn was referred to in terms of being “dirty” shows how the world viewed it. These were prudish times and porn was the dirty thing that nobody spoke of but everyone thought about. It’s a bit sad really because we all love a bit of porn. Some of you may disagree with that but you are delusional and ultimately full of shit.

Whatever your taste may be porn caters to all of us. Some of it is truly weird and disgusting but regardless of taste the porn industry has something for everyone.

Anyway, back to the point. If porn were real how would it affect the world? Well, the first thing is that we’d all die. Disease would kill most of us and I’m not talking about STD’s. No. The simple fact is that if porn was real nobody would ever call a plumber.

According to the laws of porn all plumbers are hung like donkeys, ready to perform at all times and from the porn I’ve seen none of them know fuck all about fixing the shower. We’d all die because the dishes wouldn’t get washed, our clothes would be dirty and nobody would take a shower. Disease would run rampant.

Now, before anyone suggests that before plumbing the world survived, please remember this is my rant. I’m right so bear with me. I think the most amazing thing is that these days you have to make an appointment with a plumber, all of them are busy and they charge $200 to come round and service your mrs! Cheeky fuckers.

When I grow up I want to be an astronaut, soldier, fireman, etc. Fuck that! When I grow up I want to be a plumber.

The Demon

Morning peeps. Just had a call from one of the boys and realized I can’t remember half the night. It must have been good!

So today we’re gonna talk about booze. Simply because it’s awesome. Booze is like oil or grease, it’s a lubricant. It’s the lubricant that makes the world work. Now some of you will disagree with me but you’re wrong. For the sake of being politically correct I’ll insert a safety announcement.

Kids, booze is bad!

There, done. Anyway, drink is awesome. I’m slightly biased because I’m a binge alcoholic, but I know what’s what, so believe me on this. For those of you that aren’t sure, a binge alcoholic is a person that once they start drinking doesn’t stop til the job is done. Or the booze is finished. I don’t wake up in the morning and crave a drink. I’ve gone days and even weeks without a drink and it doesn’t affect me, but when I start I don’t stop until:

Gravity wins

The police arrive

I need to go to the hospital

Everywhere is closed

I know it’s a bit sad and some will think I’m a loser, but it’s a fact of life. I’m Irish and the stereotype is correct, we LOVE drinking.

Speaking of losers The Losers is an awesome movie so go watch it. I may have mentioned it before but it deserves a second go. Turn off brain, watch it, laugh, wince and enjoy the sheer ridiculousness of a wicked action movie. It makes The Expendables look exactly like it’s name.

So back to the Uisce Beatha. That’s Irish folks and two of about ten words I know in the language. But it’s relevant here because Uisce Beath means the water of life. In English it means whisky. Now we all know that whisky is awesome, I drank my lifetime quota of it between the ages of 18 and 22 and they were some good years.

Think about this, many countries have a drink called the water of life. Eau de vie and Aquavit are the perfect examples. Remember that this is not a recent thing, it’s many years old, centuries in most cases. So the fact of the matter is that hundreds of years ago people in different countries called their best booze the water of life. Coincidence? I think not. These fuckers knew the secret of life and it was drink! Smart boys.

Let’s start with beer. Benjamin Franklin (he da man on the hundred, I love him) was famous for many reasons. He invented bifocal glasses, lightning rods and lots of other shit. He was a true genius with theories that many of his contemporaries didn’t understand or concur with. He deserves to be on the 100 and I love to see him. However, he is misquoted many times for the awesome line “beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy”. I don’t care if it’s a misquote, it could be a downright lie and I’d still love it. I’m not a religious person, but if a church used that as a tagline then I might start believing.

One net trawl revealed that some folks don’t like Benny boy. I don’t give a shit about his politics, misquotes or his crappy hair. Ben Franklin is on the 100 dollar bill! Fuck everything else, that shit is awesome. The Mona Lisa has been copied, but if your portrait is copied millions of times a year then you must be a legend.

So, God loves us and that’s why we have beer. It’s a wicked beverage that ranges from gold to black in colour. Children don’t like it (silly kids) because it’s an acquired taste, particularly if it’s black, but acquiring that taste is a joyous thing.

As the wise proverb states, “24 cans in a case, 24 hours in a day. Coincidence? I think not.”

There is a lot more to discuss about booze but I’m sobering up so I need to refuel.

Cars

Johnny Cash! What a legend. Problems with drugs, serious relationship issues and a voice that God would use. I love this dude. Choose from a number of tunes, they’re all pretty good.

So, I’m a car man. I love them. I don’t mean in the regular guy way of cars are cool, I’m a guy so I like cars. No, I mean I’ve actually jerked off to beautiful cars. Bashed one out, tugged it off, grabbed the blue vein cheese gun and made a cake. I love cars!

Some people will think that’s a bit weird and I can understand their point of view. Somewhat. I love cars because for me it’s a marriage of engineering and styling. These things have no place being together, kinda like Bill Gates and Kiera Knightly.

The engineering part is taking lumps of metal, shaping them and fitting them together in the right way to make horsepower. Even that part is cool. Let’s take a bunch of metal and make lots of horses out of it. You engineering dudes are funny cunts.

The styling part is completely alien to this. Think of a weird little man, maybe with glasses, that loves handbags. I know I’ve offended some people by that comment, but my intention is only to promote debate, not instill riots. I have lots of gay friends and they are shitty engineers. But they make shit look good.

The great cars through the ages have nailed one or both of these things. Some are the kinda cute neighbour girl with big tits. These are muscle cars. Not usually great to look at, but you’ll always have a second glance and if you get a chance you’ll drive the shit out of it. The Ford Mustang.

Italians have always had the car thing right. They almost invariably look beautiful but they’re temperamental as fuck. This is the foreign exchange student. You want your friends to see you with her, but in reality you have no idea what makes her work. Any Italian beast, but choose the Ferrari Daytona.

Then you have the Japs. Their cars are like a maid on speed that works 22 hours a day. You never see her but the place is always fucking clean! Nobody knows how they do it but they do it very, very well. Efficient, cheap and it works all the time. Once in a while they produce the Indonesian style maid. 21 years old with a body for sin that insists on getting it in the ass! That’s the Nissan GTR. It’s rare, but a beautiful thing.

The English deserve a mention. Their car industry is now a thing of the past but they have given us (and continue to do so) some gems along the way. Aston Martin and Lotus are two of the greats. These are the girl that you meet at a family gathering, a boring do that you have to attend. She’s the daughter of a Lord or some shit, nice dress and hair in a braid. Stand offish and snooty. But then you get her in the barn and realize she has her own toolbox and knows more than you. Boomshackalacka.

The debate about the most beautiful car will rage on forever. Everyone has their own choice and all are right in some way. Who’s the most beautiful woman in the world? We all have our own answer and that’s a question we’ll definitely get back to in the future. But cars are the same. They have a distinct personality and we all have out favourites.

However the greatest name for a car is easily answerable and if you disagree then you’re a useless twat and you’re wrong. It is the Jensen Interceptor. Yep. Interceptor! The fucking coolest name ever put on a car. If you don’t believe me then you’re wrong. I love this car because it’s a luxobarge with four seats, leather everywhere and a 7 litre motor. But the name is what gives me a semi. Jensen Interceptor. Say it again. Let it roll around your mouth like a fine wine. Jen sen In ter cep tor. Sorry, full hard on achieved, it’s porn time. Later.

Yesh

It was one of those days. A bunch of friends in the pub and a good laugh all round. But this morning I woke in a bad mood. Not sure why. A couple of folks were being asses (not me for a change) but this morning I find myself in a bad mood. I’m debating whether or not to refuel because drinking in a bad mood is a recipe for disaster.

Music is helping. Most of it is heavy. I tried Dave, but he just can’t soothe my mood right now.

“Rhapsody on a theme of Paganini” Rachmaninoff

It’s just beautiful

But it ain’t helping my mood. I’m just pissed off but I don’t know why. It’s one of those days when you just feel unhappy with the world. Fuck you world!

Let’s try to shift the mood. Random searches on the net……

Searches didn’t net anything of note (excuse the shitty pun). Decided to go with Thin Lizzy, very loud, it’s easing my pain. But now I want to kill English men. Side bar: I have many English friends so don’t take this shit too seriously guys. Irish people don’t hate English people. History has forced us to deal with unpleasant things but hatred isn’t my prevailing thought. What I hate is the fact that they learn about the empire but school fails to tell them about the genocide they perpetuated in Ireland. Then they have an opinion that all Irish people are stupid and terrorists. Silly English people.

Knowledge is the key to life. We are always learning and life offers us many opportunities to expand our base. I don’t like individuals, I can’t justify not liking a country full of people, regardless of history. There will always be assholes, but never base your opinion of a country on the actions, or beliefs, of a handful of morons. That is folly.

It’s actually pretty simple. Ireland is aawesome. Two a’s for added awesomness. England is the “old enemy”. America has some goodness because shit loads of Irish went there. Everybody else is tolerable to a degree. That is the world according to me. There are other thoughts but I’ll save those for a chapter.

Tangent. Somebody please tell me there’s a Sean Connery app. Yesh. I’m sure there is but I don’t have an iPhone. I have a $10 Nokia that is truly mega. It doesn’t just do phone calls. No, it also does messages and it has a calendar! But it would sound better if it had Sean’s voice. Only he can portray a Russian submarine captain with a Scottish accent and no fucker laughs at him.

Bond, James Bond. Even thinking about it makes me smile. Daniel Craig is great, but Sean Connery is James Bond. Always. His name could be Twatface Mc Shitbag and it would still be awesome. Hello. The names Mc Shitbag. Twatface Mc Shitbag. The best part about this is that you are using his voice to say this in your mind. And it’s wicked.

“Don’t stop til you get enough” Michael Jackson

Yes he was a moron but this man was a true entertaining giant. I saw him in Landsdowne Road and was blown away. If this song doesn’t make you happy, try drugs because you have serious problems.

Smiling now, thanks Michael. Just can’t get a groove going. Nothing comes to mind. The tangenital doofangle in my mind ain’t working. So, I shall leave you and come back when I have world altering thoughts to share with you. Later.