I may as well start with the most recent memory as it is still fresh in my head. Last night saw the coming of the long awaited second series of Lost. After a long day at college I cycled to Fi's where we cycled on together to Emsy's. Here we met Alard, Wig and Dan and were in high spirits at the anticipation of what lay ahead. We sat around getting more and more giddy before retiring to the tv room at 9 for a double episode of beauty. Alas our hopes were too high as the first
episode was a catch-up episode. This might prove useful for some but since most of us finished watching the first season only 24 hours earlier this catch up episode was unnecessary. However it only made us more hungry for the actual epsidoe that followed straight after. While brilliant in every possible way, it was far too short and a whole week is far too long to wait for the next episode. Discussion followed as did much popcorn courtesy of Danny's popcorn making machine. Around the midnight mark I cycled home sounding my abnoxious horn.
Saturday was a pretty good day too. I awoke that morning with high hopes for arguably the best Irish rugby team in decades. It was the opening match of the 6 nations championship 2006 between Ireland and Italy at Lansdowne Rd. Thanks to Claire's powers of persuasion over her Daddy she managed to box us off with a pair of seats in the upper east stand. We met outside Mary Macs at midday for a few pints and then strolled down to the stadium just making the kick off at 1.30. Disaster. An abismal performance from Ireland who should not have won. The Italians fought well and closed us down at every opportunity. A wrongfully awarded try to Tommy Bowe made
even more sickening. Still a win is a win and Ireland are still on track for the grandslam. After the match, myself and Claire headed to Kitty O'Shea's to watch the England V Wales match at Twikenham with Fi & family. I was hoping for a good result here from our Celtic Brethern especially as I had a €1 bet riding on England to win the wooden spoon. Alas it was not to be and England completely thrashed Wales. The day was not turning out as planned. The last glimmer of hope for the day to turn good lay in the first Present Arms gig in over a quarter of a year. The gig 
was at a 21st somewhere on the Northside in a GAA club. I arrived there, we soundchecked, listened to the support band who were very good for a change and had a few pints. By the time we got on stage we were gagging for it. We played well I thought but the crowd didn't care. They didn't want to know who we were. There was no atmosphere and more importantly no dancing. After 2 hours of hell we were bored and dying to quit and get drunk. And quit and get drunk we did. Somehow I managed to call in the services of Taxi Dave to bring me home at the end of the night. The last thing I remember as I was leaving the GAA
club was a bloody brawl in the carpark. I've seen a couple of fisticuff fights in my life but this was an all out bloodbath. The 2 guys were kicking the absolute shit out of each other surrounded by a large crowd. I got into my taxi and the driver called the cops. My next memory is not a pleasant one and I shall refrain from sharing it in this forum. I was suffering on Sunday and somehow managed to get through a whole practice with The Fez down in Steveo's place in Gorey. I'm never drinking again!Now away with ye...
No comments:
Post a Comment