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Irish Blog Award Nominations

Grandad February 20th, 2010

I see the list of nominations is up for the Irish Blog Awards.

I was a little bit disappointed to see that I failed to get nominated under the Best Beauty/Fashion Blog as there is at least one site in there I would love to hammer into the ground [no names – no pack drill! Heh!].

I was more than surprised to see that I slid in under four categories which I did not expect – Best Personal Blog, Best Humour Blog, Best Political[?!!] Blog and Best Blog Post. Our K8 is in there too, so I’ll collect her gong for her when I’m there.

Nominated under three different categories?

To whoever nominated me – thank you very much.

I am humbled.

I am flattered.

I am a little embarrassed.

I am more than a little pleased as well.

pleased

Links

Grandad February 15th, 2010

For a long time now, I have been meaning to do something with the links on this site.

There were a lot of people linking to this site, and I wasn’t linking back, which didn’t seem fair. But who gives a shit about being fair?

Anyway, I decided to do something about it. I very nicely asked those people in Google if they would kindly tell me all the links that people had clicked to arrive here. They were quite obliging and sent me the list.

All 13,090 of them!

This was a bit of a pain in the arse, as I had to go through them removing pages that were sub-pages of the main site, if you know what I mean.

Then a lot of them were from comments that I had left on other sites [yes – I do comment occasionally]. And some of them were casual mentions, and some of them were on forums and shit like that.

After all the pruning, I then had to visit each site to make sure it was still working, and to get its name right.

I finally whittled the list down to 134.

So there are 134 sites out there that have ~~bogrolls~~ blogrolls that link here? I’m flattered.

It was actually quite an interesting exercise, as I came across a few sites that I had never even heard of before. The other thing I got a laugh from was the great names that you lot have thought up for your sites. Where the fuck did you get them from?

Anyway – I then spent an age putting all those links onto a page on my site. It doesn’t look very neat, and I may do something about it sometime, but all the links are there. All 134 of them. I had to put them on a separate page, otherwise the front page would have been so long, it would have scraped off the floor.

Another thing that amused me is that half link to Head Rambles, and half link to Grandad. Make your fucking minds up! One or two linked to “Grandad at Head Rambles” which made sense.

Now, I may have missed one or two. Take a look, and if you have a link on your ~~bogroll~~ blogroll, but you ain’t on the list, just tell me. I will probably ignore you as life can be cruel sometimes.

If you want to be put at the top of the list, just change your site name, as the list is alphabetical.

Which explains why Grannymar is cuddling up with Grumpy Old Twat.

Heh!

Brainfarts

Grandad February 12th, 2010

I had quite a lot of things to write about today, but events sort of overtook me.

First there were the callers to the door, and then there were the phone calls. All interrupted my natural flow, so I just never got a chance to put pen to paper, or should I say finger to keyboard?

I even had a call from Pullit to say that the smoking inspector was down in the pub causing trouble, so that meant a trip down there, followed by a diversion to the landfill. People say that country life is quiet! Hah!

I have a little problem with my writing that makes it a little difficult.

I have found that if I have an idea for a topic and mull it over in my mind then that is the end of that. I cannot write if I have thought about it. I know there are people out there who take notes and things like that, but that just doesn’t work for me. Spontaneity is the name of the game here. Actually, I would go so far as to say that spontaneity is too slow.

The only way I can write on a topic is to wait until a thought crosses my mind. Once the idea arrives, it is a case of typing like the clappers until the thought is purged. I don’t plan anything though. I don’t think ahead. I just type as the thoughts come so once I start, I haven’t a fucking clue what even the next sentence will be, let alone where it’s going to end.

As I said, I had a few thoughts this morning, but I can’t write about them now. Too much time has passed, and I have had a chance to think about them – a fatal error – and if I tried writing about them then I would write totally nonsensical gibberish. But then, you say, I write nonsensical gibberish anyway so what’s the difference? The difference is that even I would be bored reading it. By writing spontaneously, at least I have the pleasure of reading it after, as I honestly haven’t a fucking clue what I have written until I have written it.

It’s quite a strange experience writing this way. I read back on the stuff I have just typed and wonder where that hell all that came from.

How does anyone else do it?

Do people really plan things before they write them?

Am I the only one who hasn’t a fucking clue where he is going?

Caught in the headlights

Grandad February 5th, 2010

I had a bit of a rough night the night before last. Maybe it was just old age or maybe it was a bad pint, but I didn’t sleep very well.

Last night I made up for it. I had a great sleep with beautiful dreams where sunny beaches, Sharon Ni Bheolain and bikinis featured prominently. It was good, and I didn’t wake ‘til late in the morning.

I was just contemplating putting my clothes on, when the phone rang.

I managed to answer it, which was quite an accomplishment, as essentially I was still asleep. It was TippFM wanting to know if I would do a live interview for their morning programme. What was worse, they wanted to do it there and then. Fuck!

I am a bit like a steam locomotive. I need to have my fires lit and I need to build up a head of steam before I venture onto the track. So here I was, bollock naked, without my morning pipe full and no mug of tea and worst of all, a head that was still on a tropical island.

They said they would phone back in a couple of minutes, so I frantically put on the kettle and hunted for my pipe. Too late. The phone rang, and I was on air.

It was a disaster!

The poor chap in the studio did his best to wake me up, but it was a lost cause. There I was, stark naked in full view of the entire county of Tipperary and I couldn’t think. There were lots of emms, and errs, and my mouth was dry from lack of tea, and a mind as blank as Mary Harney’s.

He asked me questions and I struggled for answers as my dangly bits swayed gently in the breeze.

He gave up in the end. I can’t say I blame him. That’s probably the end of his career.

I finally got dressed, made my tea and lit the pipe. I’m now awake and wondering if it all really happened.

I don’t remember what I said as it’s all a bit of a blur. Did I let rip with a few fucks and cunts? Did I mention anyone by name? Can I expect some angry litigation?

Did I really stand naked in front of an entire county?