Grandad March 4th, 2008
There were some quite famous people at the Irish Blog Awards.
Some were so famous that people had actually heard of them.
There was Rick O’Shea who is known to at least ten listeners. He did the warm up act.
The main introductions were done by another famous person. Most of the people who have heard of him though are dead, because he killed them. I almost admire him for that.
This is him doing the introductions to the various awards, as filmed by Osama, at the back of the hall.
Grandad March 4th, 2008
I have never been so ashamed in all my life.
I let that other fella off for the weekend to enjoy himself and he made a holy show of himself.
Jayzus! He goes off to a party in town and has one fucking pint of Guinness! Pathetic. And the miserable worm comes crawling home before midnight.
I saw the pictures. Fannying about on stage like a fucking prima donna, and lapping up all my glory. The bollix. And the women? Jayzus! Tits and cleavage that would fuel my dreams for years to come. I’m telling ya – if I’d been there, the maternity hospitals would be booked out solid come next November.
He tells me he talked to that Twenty bloke. Talked? Talked? I’d have smashed the fucker’s face in without a word for listing me as a non-smoking blog.
I had a good Saturday night.
A few of the locals came in. The other fella had taken Herself off my hands, so there was no nagging. We had a good night. We had an indoor barbeque. We roasted an American on a spit and drank whiskey. It was a good evening. I tidied up a bit after, but left one nearly empty whisky bottle hanging around. Of course he had to finish it when he came home. Next morning, he thought he had drunk the lot. One glass of whiskey, and he’s gone. And he does use a glass. One of those little ones. Has he never heard of a pint?
Wimp.
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