Archive for January, 2010

A Happy Event

January 17th, 2010

I felt distinctly weird yesterday afternoon.

It started with a strange sensation in my stomach – like something was moving around in there.  I also noticed that my Schwarzenegger-like figure was beginning to look a little bloated around the abdomen.  I ignored it all.

Later on in the day I started to have cravings.  I had a desire for onions in gravy which came out of nowhere.  I decided to do some research on the Interweb.

To my delight, I discovered I was pregnant.

I decided to celebrate by cooking some onions in gravy.

I used to cook this quite a lot, but haven’t done so for quite a while.  It was simple enough.  I got one of those onions that’s the size of a grapefruit [don’t confuse the two – grapefruit in gravy isn’t the same] and chopped it up and chucked it in the pan.  I also baked a few sausages and cooked up some chips.  I get sausages from the butcher in the village.  They are huge and they are fucking gorgeous.  I don’t know what meat he uses, though I did find an earring in one recently.

After my meal [which was delicious] the craving had dissipated, but the stomach was larger, and the movements more pronounced.  There was also a considerable level of discomfort.  Was this labour, I wondered to myself?

In the early hours of this morning I gave birth.

It was a very easy, if somewhat messy delivery.

I am now the proud father of a bonny bouncing 12lb fart.

Women often whinge on about the difficulties of labour and childbirth, but that’s a load of bollox.

Take it from me lads –

It’s a breeze.

Bloggers for Haiti – Put your money where your mouth is

January 16th, 2010

A couple of days ago, I was idly watching Twitter when a twit tweeted.

They want everyone to stick a ribbon on their avatar in support of Haiti.

What an unadulterated heap of steaming shit.

It really pisses me off when people start that act – turn your blog green in support of the environment, or add a ribbon to your avatar in support of a fucking football team or whatever.  It is a trite piece of shite to make you feel you are doing something, when in fact you are doing sweet fuck all.

I received a mail from English Mum this morning.  She started on about ‘bloggers’ getting together to support Haiti.  I groaned.  Here we fucking go again.  Lets all write about the terrible situation so we can feel like we have done something.  Won’t it be a great consolation to some poor bloke in Haiti who has just lost his house and family to know that people are writing about him?

But then I read further.  I should have known better.  English Mum wants to promote a campaign to actually do something.  She wants everyone to write about Haiti under the banner of ‘Bloggers for Haiti’ on Monday and to donate.  That’s more like it.  Good old English Mum.

This is what she wrote:

We are going to try and rally as many bloggers as possible to create a blog post on Monday (or before if you’re that keen!) about the wonderful Shelterbox.org and encourage as many of their readers, commenters, friends and family to donate.  We’d love to be responsible for lots of Shelterboxes making their way to Haiti.

If you feel you can join in, then please create a post on your blog and encourage your fellow bloggers to do the same.  Make sure you include a link to the justgiving page.  There’s tons of info on Shelterbox on their website, including pics that you can use.

I’m writing today, because at my age and earthquake could strike during the night and I may not be around on Monday, so I am writing today instead.

So what I want you to do now is to shift your arse over to Shelterbox and give ‘til it hurts.

When you have done that, maybe write a piece yourself if you have a site?  Spread the word.

It’s a lot more useful to a homeless Haitian than a fucking piece of tatty ribbon.

Devastation in Haiti

Breathe the fresh air

January 16th, 2010

You have to love this country.

Last November [a mere few weeks ago] the country was washed out with floods.  Hundreds of thousands of acres were awash, and God knows how many homes were destroyed.  From Dublin, through Kildare, right down the Shannon and Cork was nothing but water.  Night after night, all we saw on the news was images of people being boated from their drowned homes.

The country ground to a standstill.

Then came The Freeze.

We had a few snow flurries, and the roads froze.  Cars, buses, taxis and trains slithered to a halt.  No one had any salt for the roads so fuck all was done.  I don’t know why they couldn’t use grit?  There were dozens of quarries offering the stuff for nothing, but the councils insisted on salt for some reason.  Grit did its job perfectly up to a few years ago, but apparently salt is in fashion so that was the way we were told we had to go.  The government ordered tons of salt, but because of international demand, there wasn’t any.

The country ground to a standstill.

Then came the thaw.

Temperatures have [relatively] soared in the last couple of days, and the only place you’ll find ice now is in Tracey’s vodka down in the pub.  The snow has gone, and the roads have cleared.  The tens of thousands of tons of salt have arrived now that we don’t want the stuff.

Guess what?

We are out of water.

The country that was up to its neck in floods a few short weeks ago is rationing water. Fucking hell!  They reckon it will be weeks before reservoirs are up to safe levels.  Swathes of our capitol city have been cut off and people are collecting their supplies in buckets from tankers.  Companies, schools and shops have had to shut because they are dry.  It is truly a case of “water, water, everywhere, but not a drop to drink”. People are buying bottled water to top up their cisterns. 

Nobody can afford to wash.

Truly, this country stinks.

Galway Blog Awards

January 15th, 2010

How the years fly past.

It seems like no time since I was down in Cork at the Irish Blog Awards, and it seems like even less time since I was in Dublin for the year before.

They are on again in a couple of months, but this time they are in Galway.  I’m not sure why they keep changing the venue but I have a sneaking suspicion that they are trying to confuse me.  I suspect that they are trying to find a city that I haven’t heard of.  Well, it’s tough shit because I know where Galway is.  I don’t advertise this for obvious reasons, but Herself comes from Galway so I have had to go there a couple of times in the past.

As cities go, Galway isn’t a bad spot.  You have less chance of being drowned there than you have in Cork.  You have less chance of being stabbed/shot/mugged/murdered/raped than in Limerick.  All in all, it’s quite a friendly little city.  I have very fond memories of a stay I had there in Salthill some years ago.  We got the lounge pianist drunk and that led to a great session that lasted into the small hours of the following afternoon. I don’t know if they ever rebuilt the hotel.

I don’t know what the story is about this year.  Will I be going?  I don’t know, because I have a problem.

With impeccably bad timing, our K8 is due to drop her sprog some time around then, and for some unknown reason, Herself wants to be around for The Event.  I can’t understand the attraction myself, as a sprog is a sprog is a sprog.  Once you have seen one, you’ve seen them all.  It just means more babysitting.  I am just baffled as to why K8 chose such a fucking awkward time.

Of course I may just sneak across on my own.  Herself can stay at home In Case of Need leaving me to enjoy myself.  Last time there were a few of you women who fancied a slice of Grandad, but were scared off by Herself.  Maybe this is your chance?

Anyway, nominations are open.  I don’t know when they close, but I think it is very soon, so get voting.  The blog has to be Irish, but you don’t.

I’m not going to make any recommendations, as I am not going to do your thinking for you.  Just fucking nominate.  OK?

I wonder if I can nominate The Sprog as Best Newcomer?

Everyone should read this

January 14th, 2010

I find it deeply disheartening.

I go to the trouble of imparting my wisdom of the ages, day after day for your enlightenment and guidance.  Here is the voice of experience – the result of a lifetime of trial and error – and do you listen?

No.

I have discovered to my amazement that not everyone reads this site.  I would have thought that after three and a half years of writing shite invaluable wisdom, it would be the first port of call for everyone on the planet, but apparently not.  If you don’t read this site, then it’s your loss.  But then if you don’t read this site, then you won’t know I have told you that it’s your loss.  See now what you are missing?

A mere week ago I wrote about the dangers of over reliance on satellite navigation systems.  It was very sound piece, based on at lest five minutes research that was a salutary warning to all would be travellers.  Apparently there were some idiots out there who didn’t read the piece.

A television crew from Sky had to be rescued when their Sat Nav sent them through mountain passes and into a 4ft snow drift.

They ended up stuck in deep snow and tried to dig themselves out but ended up alerting gardai about 5pm. The mountain rescue team was called in and within an hour had located the Sky crew. It took two hours to rescue them.

You would think that a meeja crew would have the sense to read my site?  They, who couldn’t be arsed to read the definitive authority on all things life related call themselves media savvy?  Fucking idiots.  They should have been left there to freeze.

Now, if they had read my site, they would have known better than to rely on a SatNav to find their way through the mountains.

There again, if they had read my site, they would have known better than to ask directions from an old fella with a beard and pipe in the first place.

Heh!

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