A month without alcohol

Sorry I left out yesterday, I swear I wasn’t on a massive bender! Actually, quite the opposite. I got a new job as one of societies most annoying members-the chugger
Yes, anyone who has ever walked through town between 10 in the morning and 6 in the the evening knows exactly what I’m talking about-and hate me for it! I stop you, interrupt you, disturb you repeatedly as you amble through Dublins fair streets. I’m a proffesional pain in the arse! You may notice my new found fondness for big loud EXCLAMATION MARKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Its part of the job really! Normally I hate people like this but as I am actually falling asleep in my seat I don’t care!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!!!!!! Ding! Ding!Ding!Ding!Ding!Ding!Ding!

But I am technically working for a charity and the rush you get when you sign someone up is completely unlike any other rush I’ve ever had. Its a slow burning sense of well being and personnal fulfillment that for so long I had thought was purely fake. Its great but it leaves you in bits by the end of the day

Céard a tharla ansin a bhuachaillí? Is tragóid é seo, níl a fhios agam cén aois atá ar Jay-o ach táim cinnte nach bhfuil móráin am fágtha aige chun an chorainn a bhfuil tuilte aige a fháil. Nílaim sásta, sin an fhíorainne. Chuirmid seanse ullmhór amú inniú agus chuireann sé sin isteach go mór orm. Anois tá orainn fanacht ar feadh bliann iomláin eile-bollox!

My God is this boring, I’m acting like a thirty year old for fucks sake! I went home early today because I have work tomorrow-work! That is potentially one of the worst reasons I have ever given for doing anything ever(that and the unforgettable ‘but it will be really funny’). I would also like to point out that the Dun laoghaire Festival of World Cultures was better last year because it was sunny and I was drunk.
Yes the festival of world cultures, what a way to spend the weekend. More importantly, what a cheap way to spend the weekend. It was educational too. Courtesy of my new found sobriety I was able to get out of bed this morning. Nay, better, I was able to get out of bed and work this morning as I’m sure the few posts I lashed up today will show. Another result of the 5 hours I have now officially stolen back from sleep and Dutch Gold(a fine beverage I might add) was the full attention I was able to give to an Islamic lecture/discussion group.
Muslims are great, in no other religeon have I met people so capable of discussing and questioning their own religeon. Granted, I don’t know any muslims who aren’t clerics and most of the Catholics I know aren’t strictly speaking ‘Christians’(Social Catholicsm:we don’t believe in God but we support Celtic). Anyway, long story short it was a genuinely enriching experience and it re affirmed my belief that there is but one God worshipped by all religeons just in different ways. I should do a real post about this sometime.
In other news I’m still knackered(thats tired for any non-Dubliners). Actually speaking of Dublin, we LOST today! This was supposed to be our year and we lost to Mayo in the All Ireland semi-final?! In a game when we were, at one stage, seven points clear we manged to screw it up. The sides drew level eight times in an epic battle that has already been tipped as one of the best matches in the past thirty years. This is great and all but it doesn’t change the fact that we lost a game that we should have won if for nothing more than romanticsm.
Yes Romanticsm, the only real reason for watching sport. This fixture, for Dubliners, was not lacking in that department. For a start, if Dublin(having already secured the Leinster title) were to have won they would meet Kerry in the final. Kerry-V-Dublin in Croke Park is a fixture that immediately conjures up sentimentality among both sets of fans for it was nearly garaunteed fixture every year throughout the seventies (as Heffo’s army took on the expansive ‘total football’). Kerry-V-Dublin(in the eyes of the faithful) equates to the phoenix risng from the ashes of so many years dissappointment-a return to the glory days of yore.
The war like imagery of blood sacrifices, honour and loyalty were provided by the huge brawl at the start of the match (when even the management staff had a go). Mayo started it but Dublin finished it, if you know what I mean. Ciaran Whelan,of Dublin, would later give one of Mayo’s star midfielders a concussion-and get away with it! Not that I advocate that sort of behaviour but it serves them right for trying to warm up in front of Hill 16 and the ever present sea of blue and navy, I’ll take that minor trophy as compensation for such a cruel defeat.
I’m off to bed, alcohol was fun-I miss it

Je parle un pettit peu de français aussi mais je ne suis pas trop bien. Allors je pence que je ne veut pas ecris beaucoup en français

Is gaeil mé agus dá bhrí sin tá orm píosa beag don teanga mháithreach a chuir síos. Is pháirt do mo chuid phearsanta é faoin am seo agus is dóigh gur fiú agus gur féidir!

I need practice at the descripterooneys so I thought I’d paint my gram grams-with words! (gasp at my CrAzY ideas)

The first thing you notice when she walks into the room is that she’s barely moving, you could tear down and rebuild the house before she gets where she’s going. The second thing you notice is her face.
The skin above her eyes and around her mouth sags like bits of old cloth. It seems as though her face has melted somewhat and this gives her a mourneful air unlike anyone else I’ve ever met in my life. It is as though every weatherbeaten wrinkle remembers some emotional scar or worry, her face indicates a lifetime spent battling knee deep in the insecurities of those around her. For she was a warrior, though some make question her motives none can deny her streangth.
She wore glasses with light pink frames nearly the same pigmant as her skin which allowed them to blend in perfectly with rest of her face seeming at times invisible. They did however magnify her beady squinting eyes so that they looked a normal size but due to the squint she always seemed to be frowning. Maybe she was frowning, it was afterall those very same eyes that once disowned me.
Her body was a frail shadow of what I’m sure it once was, it seemed fat but fragile at the same time. To add to the contradictions of her ancient body was the incredible stiffness held within it, her spine perpetually rigid and upright. I could probably insert a clumsy metaphore about her spine and the way she raised her children but that would just be pretencious so I’ll let those of a certain inclination do it for themselves. Post your own metaphores in comment form, if we ever meet I’ll pat you on the back

Bush is not stupid
The Catholic Church is not entirely run and operated by paedophiles
The Prodestant Church is not entirely run and operated by really boring people
Sinn Fein will never form a government
Americans are not as cool as their Mexican or Canadian neighbours

Bush is however Evil greedy and very very dangerous
The Church has protected less desirable members in the past to save face
Prodestants are just as much fun as everyone else-they just have less kids
Sinn Fein actually do have intelligent politicians but none of them live in the Republic
Americans will take this blog too seriously-uncool lads, uncool

I shall start by explaining the title but to do this I must first point out that I am an Irishman, a proud Irishman even. All my life I have been a stereotype: I have fiery red hair, I speak Irish, I take politics personally, I have literary/artistic inclinations and yes-I drink far far too much. I have decided that this has gone on long enough. I have been drunk almost every day for the past two months, nearly the whole summer! Even as I write, a vicious hangover rampages through my head smacking the sides of my skull with flashbacks and memories of events that I’m not too sure actually happened. I am in bits.

My mission, if its not too obvious from the above text is to make it a month without any alcohol. I shall be sober until the 26th of September, a upon reaching that point I will know that I’m not an alcoholic

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