Head Rambles

Grandad March 3rd, 2008

I have a few regrets about Saturday night.

The first is that I didn’t get to meet more people.  The only reason I went is because Bock the Bastard promised to buy me a pint and I couldn’t find him.  Then he fecked off early to escape me.

The second is that those I did meet, I had difficulty hearing.  Old age again.

The third, and biggest regret is that I couldn’t stay longer.

I can’t mention all the great people I spoke to, because my memory is crap [as you know], and I know I’d leave a lot out.  But to every one of you - thanks.  You made a great evening special.

I am sitting here in my comfy armchair, where I sit most mornings.  It is a beautiful day outside.  Blue skies, birds singing, sun shining, snow falling [snow?  What the fuck?].  I’m tapping a few inane words on my keyboard and I don’t expect anyone to read them because they are my own little bit of amusement.  So when I arrived on Saturday and people started coming up to me and saying they were dying to meet me, I was utterly bewildered.  I read on a post yesterday that someone wanted to meet me, but they lost their nerve?  What?  What the hell is going on?  I was the one who was nervous and bewildered.  I was the one who was surrounded by the great and the good and I was nervous about approaching anyone.  I was approached by people who said they read my blog but were too nervous to comment?  What in the name of all that is holy is that about?  Any time a comment appears on the site, I get a little glow.  Someone is reading what I have written and have bothered to reply.  I feel honoured.

I didn’t expect to win.  I was very surprised to make the long/shortlist.  I hadn’t even thought about what I might say, because it never occurred to me that I might have to say it.  I sat down the back, because I knew I wouldn’t have to have quick access to the stage.  I was more than gobsmacked when Rick called out Head Rambles.  What the fuck were the judges thinking of?  Were they on smack or something?  Whoever you were - thanks!  As I said yesterday, an Irish Blog Award means more to me than any other award.  It really is the highest accolade.

I should also thank a few other people.  [Yes - here comes the acceptance speech I didn't make].  For the first time in my life, I would like to thank Microsoft who sponsored the category, and Hosting 365 for the bottle of bubbly [which is being laid down for a very special occasion].  And of course Moviestar for the DVD player.

The nice little graphic on my sidebar was done by Robin Blandford [another winner!], and I will wear it with pride.

Another thing I will wear with pride is the lovely t-shirt given to me by Julie-Anne of Curious Tales.  If I can get it back from Herself of course.

Elly and the gang reading my t-shirt,
or looking for my off-switch?

I have already thanked Damien and will continue to sing his praises.  The other reason I wanted to go on Saturday was to shake him by the hand.  At least I achieved that [are you listening, Bock?].

I would also like to thank whoever it was who had the idea of nametags with very small print.  It gave me the opportunity to legitimately approach women and stare down their cleavage without embarrassment.  Though I was caught once or twice staring down at a fine pair, only to realise that they weren’t wearing a nametag.  Woops.

We would love to have stayed longer.  Unfortunately, wee health problems meant we had to leave early.  As it is, we overdid it and are going to suffer for the rest of the week.

But it was worth it.

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Grandad March 2nd, 2008

I woke this morning with a slight head on me. 

I had had a very surreal dream - one of those dreams that you’d swear was almost real.

But as I sit here in the quiet of the mountains, with the birds singing outside and Sandy dozing on the window ledge, I know it was just a dream.

In the dream, I was at a huge party, and the party was full of bloggers.

We all know that bloggers don’t exist.  They are just names and text that appear on computer screens, but they’re not real people.  But in this dream, they had all come to life.

All the people at the party were crazy, and they had all named themselves after bloggers.  There was even one very beautiful person who came up to me and whispered in my ear "I don’t exist", and then she vanished!  It’s amazing what weirdness the brain can toss up.

In the dream, everyone was extremely friendly [which is another reason I know it was a dream].  There was music too, and George Bush [Dubya himself] was there.  There was lots of handshaking and kissing and people calling out my name.  I think there was a part in it where I made a short speech into a microphone.  There was another part where I got undressed and I had my photograph taken.  In another part of the dream I had to strangle someone and be photographed in the act.  Was it a snuff-dream?

I hate waking up from dreams like that, because they are fun, and this was one of the best I have had since myself and Sharon Ní Bheoláin were stranded on an island.

I found the cause of the dream.  There, on the kitchen table was an empty 1.5 litre whiskey bottle.  I suppose one and a half litres of whiskey would induce some kind of reaction?  I must cut back on my nightcaps.

But beside it was a strange and lovely piece of glass, that has "Irish Blog Awards, 2008 Best Personal Blog" written on it.  I don’t know where it came from.  I know it has to somehow be part of the dream, because I could never actually win one of those, no matter how much I wanted to.  It is the unattainable and ultimate accolade.

I’m going to sit and watch it all day.  I know it will fade slowly and eventually disappear.

The glass will go first, and the last thing I will see will be just the lettering, before that too disappears.

Like the grin on the Cheshire Cat.

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Grandad February 29th, 2008

I’m not going to the Irish Blog Awards.

I know I said I’d go, and I even wrote to that Mulley bloke and said I would.  But I have better things to do.

I’ll be sending that other fella.

He’s a boring old shite.  He’s half deaf and totally humourless, and he doesn’t even drink much. 

He is a lousy social mixer and will probably try to hide in the corner somewhere.  He’ll have Herself and K8 the GR8 with him so at least he’ll have someone to talk to.  Until they get bored with him and bugger off to someone who can hold a conversation.

The only things I can say in his favour are that he looks a bit like me, and he does smoke a pipe.  Apart from that, he’s a crashing bore.  He is so dull, he doesn’t have a name.  If you’re at the awards and see him, call him Grandad anyway.  He’ll like that.  It will give him an undeserved feeling of being someone.

The only other thing I can say in his favour is that he does all my typing for me.

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Grandad February 11th, 2008

As you all probably know, the Short Lists are out.

Wow!  I’ve been shortlisted!!  Flirty told me I had but I didn’t believe her.  I never trust a woman.

Looking through the shortlists, I am thrilled.  All my pals are in there so there should be a big hooley on the 1st.

K8 the GR8 made it for Best Newcomer, so we’ll both be there.  Flirty and English Mum will have no excuse, if I can keep Bock distracted enough.  Of course Sneezy will be barred before the event even starts.  Grannymar will be casting her disapproving eye over us all and playing with her new toyboy [Twenty.  Of course!!].

Irish Taxi will be propping up the bar having One for the Road before bringing me home.  [Remember, Roy - I booked you first!!!]

Naturally, Sarah and Kathy will be taking notes [while Red Mum takes the photos] for the big exposé on Sunday, while Sabrina makes designs on Michele.

As for the rest of you………..

I’ll see you outside for a smoke.

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Grandad February 8th, 2008

I was at a Do last night.

Now, I am a quiet bloke who likes the peaceful life up in the mountains, so I find these functions somewhat bewildering at the best of times.

Last night was surreal, to put it mildly.  I know exactly how Alice felt as she entered the portals of Wonderland.

First of all, to get to the function, I had to walk on water.  The water was full of goldfish, and they all scattered as I walked on them.  I drove them into a corner and managed to squish a few.

Then people kept coming at me and pushing glasses of wine into my hand.  I didn’t mind that bit.  I wasn’t in the mood for Guinness anyway.

A lot of total strangers came up to me and asked if I was Grandad.  Why?  How did they know me?  I wasn’t wearing my blue woolly hat.

Then we had a meal.  The main course was a choice of chicken or steak, but one of the people at my table told them she was vegetarian.  That threw them into a complete spin and waiters and managers started rushing all over the place.  Eventually, they served her steak and hoped she wouldn’t notice.  Steak and courgette.  She doesn’t like courgette, so she went hungry.

At one stage I went outside for a puff of the pipe.  Our K8 was with me and she grew a rash of goose pimples so I took off my jacket to give to her, as I was too warm.  Immediately a bloke who looked and sounded like James Nesbitt insisted on rubbing my boobs.  I don’t have any, by the way, but that didn’t stop him.  He did it to prove that I was a man.  As if the beard wasn’t enough.

I have a problem with my hearing, which means that if there is any kind of background noise, I can’t hear what people are saying to me.  There was a LOT of background noise, so I’m not sure what anyone said last night.  Except James Nesbitt of course, but that was because we were outside.

So having finished our dinner, and listened to the noise for a while, we left.

K8 and I walked on the water again, but this time we played Sheep Dog Trials.  We managed to herd all the goldfish into one corner and squished most of them.

I never saw the White Rabbit though.

-oOo-

And on a completely different note…..

Huge congratulations to FeeBee at The Waiting Game for winning the Digital Media Award for Best Blog.  Nip over and congratulate her.  She deserves it.

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Grandad January 31st, 2008

Everyone is talking about the Irish Blog Awards.  And why not?

I have been nominated in the Best Blog, Best Personal Blog and Most Humorous Post [for 'God to sue America'?] categories, and to whoever voted for me, I extend a humble thank you.  I know someone did, because I didn’t vote for myself.  I don’t expect to get too far because there are so many excellent entries.  The competition is just too stiff.

What really delights me is to see that K8 the GR8 got two nominations too.  She is in for Best Newcomer and Best Blog Post.

I am going to be rooting for her because she has a talent for writing, which she refuses to acknowledge, and I don’t want her saying “I told you so“.

What I want you all to do is to nip over to that Best Post.  It is certainly one of the best posts I have read since I started blogging.  The blogging world can be cruel and cynical.  It can be funny and thought provoking.  But I think this piece of writing is a little oasis of love.

It’s called simply ‘Pop’.

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