The Shabby Theatre

I went to see a the Ryan Report show, The Darkest Corner in the Peacock Theatre the other day and I left with an encouraging feeling in my waters, that the Abbey company were starting to get their shit together. They are starting to remember why they were founded in the first place, starting to remember one of the main reasons why it exists, a theatre of the people, a theatre that discusses events involving Irish people and Irish society.

The Peacock is the smaller theatre attached the Abbey theatre. The Abbey would put on the bigger and more commercial productions when The Peacock has a smaller stage and smaller auditorium, put in place for more experimental productions, low budget, independent shows, sometimes involving dance or it is often used for live readings or children’s shows.

Leaving the theatre, even though the subject matter was deeply depressing, literally I reckon I couldn’t of seen a grimmer show if I tried, I left with a sense of optimism, that the Abbey was in good hands and that it was headed towards great things again, one of the most famous theatrical institutions in the world. A theatre that not only puts on shows about Irish society and people living in Ireland but plays from new Irish writers and directed by Irish directors that know what they are doing and that have a vision. The plays are acted by a troop of Irish actors and the productions are crewed and built by Irish hands. I don’t mean this in a kind of BNP fashion, if you are living in Ireland; you are Irish, in my opinion, no matter what country you were born in. But the theatre is about Ireland. ‘More of that’ I was singing to a few people involved in theatre over the next couple of days. Soon I found out a few things that were turning the sweet taste in mouth to sour though.

I can remember the Abbey Theatre being a central aspect in my life for as long as I can remember. My childhood memories consist of sitting, waiting in one of those cold, cream coloured dressing rooms playing with my dads fake moustaches, playing on the stairs in the foyer with other actor's kids while my folks and others actors had a drink after a show at the bar and being dragged kicking and screaming to opening night of plays like ‘A Woman of No Importance’, now, when your ten, you don’t give a fucking toss about Oscar Wilde. All I wanted to do was get home to play Streets of Rage 2 on the Mega Drive and finish it with that savage new black character who instead of just having his bare knuckles, he had a big fuck off chain to whip people with. Oscar Wilde, see you later.

My parents were members of the Abbey Theatre acting company for years, since they began acting in the early 70s, the company was a contracted troop of 25 actors and 25 actress' employed full-time at the theatre. They were the Abbey actors. They were in everything and they would open the books every couple of years to bring in younger actors. But as actors, of course, it had its upsides and its downside. The upside were that you had a full-time job as an actor, which to any actor now, is an absolute dream and also you got to put on top productions in one of the most famous theatres in the world. The down-side was that you showed allegiance to the Abbey, if you were needed in a show then that took priority, you did the show whether you were playing Hamlet or if you were some dude holding a spear at the back. You kind of had to ask permission to do something else, like in film or to work in other theatres.

But it wasn't just the acting department that was like this in the Abbey. The Abbey Theatre was a real theatrical institution, all aspects of the theatre were looked after in this fashion, everything was home grown. There was a contracted group of stage managers and stage crew that worked every show. The same group of carpenters had been making sets for the Abbey stage for 2 generations and it was the same with sound, lighting, wardrobe and props. A tight company. Everyone knew everyone.

I remember the first time, I worked in the Abbey. For years, I was John and Catharine’s young fella, half the time people called me Max, ye know, my brother’s name and I'm sure he got the same. I remember my first taste of the place though, it was when I did my transition year work experience in the sound department with the late Dave Nolan, me and Dave became mates on a tour of Dancing at Lughnasa that my Da brought me on and he said to give him a ring when we got back. He and Dave O'Brien kept me on after, as a kind of go-for for a few weeks and I got to see the whole workings of the sound and lighting department and the whole place, really, rehearsals and all, the whole process but what stood out to me was, the working relationships in the place, some of the slagging matches between Dave and Mick Doyle and the shit they used to talk about used to have me on the floor laughing. They were as tight as a drum and they would be shouting to people working down on the stage. Everyone knew each other and it worked, the work rate was so high and if it dropped, you fuckin knew about it, you got ripped out of it.

The second time, I was just out of college and I was crewing in the Gate and I was offered a position on the crew of Plough and the Stars in the Abbey by John Andrews, who was production manager at the time. The run was going for the duration of the summer so I jumped at it and, of course, to work in the Abbey would be exciting as motherfucker. My first day was the get out of the House of Bernarda Alba and the bringing in of the Plough set. Now, I have never in my life seen a set up like this, you had the carpenters, you had the crew and you had the lampies, all doing their own shit, like, 3 gangs slagging the shit out of each other throughout the day but you could tell they were all best mates and had worked with each other for years. I came from the Gate and Jim O'Connell always taught me,

'If you see something that needs to be done, Jacko, just do it.'

So I saw a screw gun, I picked it up and started to help unscrew the Bernarda Alba set. Everything stopped, all eyes were on me. 'Oh fuck!' I thought to myself, 'What did I do?' John Andrews runs over to me and grabs the screw gun off me. He turns to the carpenters, who don't know who I am, and are glaring at me, he shouts at them

'Ah, calm the fuck down, lads, it's his first day. Relax.'

The carpenters got back to work after Pete Rose, the head carpenter, says

‘Don’t worry; it’s just Johnny Olohan’s young fella.’

And Gerry Doyle strolls over to me and says,

'Don't be doing that again, Max, or there'll be fuckin murder on the red barn. If you have screw gun that means some cuntin carpenter hasn't. Right?'

'No worries! It won’t happen again' I say

'Don't worry; I have your back if they go near you. Watch out for your man with the ginger hair, he's fuckin dirty.'

I now, of course, know that the whole thing was a big fucking wined up and they were ripping it out of me, in a semi friendly manner but in a semi who the fuck is this little shit manner too. They were like this to each other all day, it was a tight working environment, these guys knew each other and the theatre they worked in so fucking well, it was unbelievable.

Sadly, since the early nineties the acting company was slowly dissolved, just through not renewing contracts. Now, I think, it is completely gone, in fact its been gone for quite a while and most recently, I heard that the other departments are currently under going liquidation aswell, that the new plan is to ship in the sets and wardrobe from Leeds, that it’s cheaper to get them made in England and then use casual labour to bring it in. I am really hoping that this isn’t true. I can’t believe that the Siptu union that all these guys had been talking about for so many years, that it wasn’t able to support and defend the technical department of the Abbey.

I also heard that there is talk about a move from the current location to the GPO. . . . . . .. . . .. . . . . . . What? . . . . . . . . . . . What a laugh? Is someone taking the piss? Please, is someone taking the piss? I don’t know about anyone else but, in my mind, The GPO is this iconic symbol of republican freedom, it is kind of like this centre point of the Irish taking there freedom from the British. What I love about the Abbey is, is it’s nationalism, it’s neutral nationalism; very different, its job was to discuss what was going on in the country. Look at all aspects of Irish society. To look at the argument in everything. If we bring the Abbey Theatre to the GPO it will dilute these two very different national symbols and make them one. To me it looks like some PR thing, it stinks of it. I can see some toffee nosed marketing bird that are amongst the Abbey administration thinking that this is a great idea, whilst they are nattering over tea and bickies on that top floor area.

‘You know what I reckon would be a savage idea?’

‘What’s that?’

‘Like, instead of, like, building a new theatre, why don’t just head to the old GPO.’

‘Oh my God, that is such a savage idea.’

‘They are both, like, massive symbols in Irish history, so . . . . . . Yeah, I think that’s what this place needs to bring it into the twenty first century.’

You lads want to make some cuts in the work force; I know where you can start. There are too many names in that administration list at the back of my program every time I go to a show, Actors 0, Stage Managers 2, Wardrobe 1, Props 1, Directors 3, Administration 20, well, it seemed that way the last time I bought a program, which are way too expensive, take a leaf out of the New York book and give me a free program every time I go to a show.

Please, stop loosing the run of yourselves, please, I don’t mind about the gay night in the Peacock, in fact, I can’t wait to see what happens there, I will be definitely checking that little venture out but, in terms, of running the theatre, remember that you are one of the most admired institutions in the world. There is a reason why you get such good funding every year. Don’t let the other departments in the Abbey share the same fate as the acting company. Getting sets made in England is a joke, surely you see that and if you find the time in all that, reinstate the acting company. Don’t give me fucking recession, the best work the Abbey ever did was in the midst of a recession.

The Stout Bar

I just want to bring everyone who is reading this to the attention of the Stout Bar in Rathmines, it used to be the Rathmines Inn across from St. Mary's College but bares no resemblance to it for the fact that it has been given the biggest face lift in the word.

My memory of the Rathmines Inn is a horrible old bar with rude bar staff and toothless customers that glare at your bird, the beer garden always had potential but was always banging for the simple reason that this was where they kept there bins. Just a run of the mill mouldy pub that I had no business being in.

Well, let me tell you, the place has been completely revamped. Redone inside visually and attitudely (if that is a word . . . . . I don't think it is but who cares it's my blog, get in outa that!).

Myself and Tara being as good as gold last Friday night, we stalled it in. Got in some serious Late Late action and looked up some pedo stuff on the internet. A nice night, we wanted to be fresh for the car-boot sale in the Shaw the next day.

Up we got, feeling good, looking good. Ready to take the day on and, as you all remember, Saturday was a scorcher. To put me in even better form, I started listened to this tune while I was drying my balls after the shower -

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7OvsVSWB4TI

I was ready to fill my belly with something, something amazing, something outrageously quality. Tara remembered seeing an amazing deal in the window of the newly opened Stout Bar.

'The Stout Bar, like the Rathmines Inn?'

'Yeah, but it's all new and done up.'

Let’s do it, I thought.

Blistering sunshine right up Leinster Rd., people out on their steps, chatting, drinking, there was even a full band outside one of these gafs, double bass and everything, playing away without a care in the world. The sun was just bringing out the best in everyone. This day was going to be ridiculously funky, I could tell. All I needed was a good feed and a gargle into me to really kick start that level of funkiness that I knew could be achievable if the right series of events acured.

In we strolled and the deal was exceeding expectations. The offer was a burger, chips, a side salad and a pint of your choice for a tenner . . . . . a fucking tenner and with that you get a free bet on the first scorer in the match. If you nail it you get a round of drinks. Get in!

Big massive plasma screens every where showing the build up to the Manchester Darby. Out into the smoking section which is a very different place to what I remembered when it was the Rathmines Inn. The place smelled great and there were televisions outside. We ordered our meal, ordered our pints and picked who we thought was going to score first, I picked Rooney and Tara picked Tevez.

The pints arrive and if you're gonna call your place the Stout Bar, you best believe I'm gonna order a pint of the black stuff and I will be very fucking critical. Sip, Sip, Sip, tasty as a moda fucka. Nailed it.

The food comes, the decider, the make or break moment arrives. With that price, I really didn't know which way it was going to go. As it lands in front of me, I start to feel a rush of optimisiam. The bite, tasty . . . . . . Chew . . . . . Go on you beauty, tasty fucking shit. Chips were chunky bastards as well with a side dip of pepper sauce. I love pepper sauce.

The staff were sound out of it too, the bar man was lightly humorous and friendly, while the waitress seemed cool with a strong knowledge of the menu. I will be going back there, I can assure you of that. It is perfect if you’re looking to watch a match, there are plasmas and projection screens everywhere. All y'all should defo check it out. Trust Me!

Out Gunned

For the first time this season it is officially just a 2 horse race. Since Chelsea's surprising loss to Tottenham on Saturday, Man Utd and Arsenal were given a second chance to contend for the title. Man Utd had already beaten City at this stage, as it was the early game, which put them within 1 point of Chelsea at the top, making the final 3 football weekends very exciting indeed but they would of been made that more exciting if only Arsenal could go to the JJB and take 3 points from Wigan. It's seems like a lightly accurence. The last time Wigan scored more than 1 goal in a match was the start of January and they had only won 2 games from their last 16. Arsenal shouldn't have believed their luck when they saw their North London rivals take 3 points from Chelsea. All of a sudden they were back in the race for the title. They must have been so up for this game, it's untrue.

I got up after a long Saturday night in Shaw and I had two things on my mind, first, was 'Carvery' and second was 'Arsenal Game'. There is nothing more amazing when your hung-over than wolfing into a carvary on a Sunday whilst watching a match. So newspaper under my arm, believe it or not, I decided to try the Crossbar carvary, I definitely was aware of the danger I was putting myself under but I had tried the carvaries from Rosie O'Gradys and Peggy Kelly’s and they were considerably below par. The Crossbar it was. The place was dead, I stroll up get my carvary which looks pretty exquisite, I sit myself down right in front of a massive screen about 5 minutes before kick off. This is exactly what I want.

The game kicked off and it was looking like it was going to go Arsenal's way, 2 goals from Walcott and Silvestre, they looked comfortable, a little too comfortable. Not really giving a shit, they seemed to take their foot off the gas, underestimating what Wigan were capable of. You would think that they might have tried to knock in a few more goals considering the fact that they trail Man Utd and Chelsea's goal difference by about 15 goals. It was like they were content with winning 2 - 0. They lightly passed the ball around like as if they were trying to run out the clock but there was twenty minutes left in the game and on 80 minutes, Ben Watson scored a handy one from close range. There was ten minutes to go and there was only one goal in it

When the game started I was very surprised with a number of things, firstly, was the starting of Lukasz Fabianski over Almunia. Yes, I know, Almunia hasn't been up to scratch at the moment but this was a game where Arsenal could not take any chances and in my opinion Fabianski was a massive chance. He has had a number of foul ups in recent times and Almunia, the stand in captain since Faberagas' injury, has put in some top performances i.e. the Barca First Leg.

As the game came to a close on the 88th minute, a high ball came into the box from a corner, Fabianski came, he had it in his hands and fumbles. Titus Bramble nods it in to equalise. Then before Arsenal could realise the difference between their arse hole to their ear hole, N'Zogbia hits in screamer to give Wigan the 3 points.

The second problem for me, Van Persie's ass firmly on the bench from the start, okay, he might not be completely fit but we didn't see him until after the third goal from Wigan in the 90th minute. We all saw the impact he had when he came on against Totenham. Why didn't we see him earlier? This game was that important for Arsenal. They needed to win and what a game to start Van Persie on a goal run. Put him on in the 75th or 80th or something.

With that Arsenal's season was over, they are out of Europe, they are out of domestic cups, they can’t come first or second and they can’t drop to fourth. They're season is completely over and it is all about next season. They will be a force to be reckoned with next season if they do a number of things -

No. 1 - Address the Goalkeeper situation. Almunia and Fabianski are just not cutting it. Almunia would probably get into a lower Premiership outfit but a team that is trying to contend for the title and in Europe, there is just no way. Why Wenger didn't jump at Shay Given is beyond me but there are a number of other keepers that might interest him - Joe Hart, Robert Green, Craig Gordon, Lyon and France keeper, Hugo Lloris, German and Bayan Leverkusen keeper, René Adler, Ajax and Dutch keeper, Maarten Stekelenburg, Wolfsburg and Swiss keeper, Diego Benaglio, Swedish and PSV keeper, Andreas Isaksson and Russian & CSKA Moscow keeper, Igor Akinfeev. All very established keepers in there Domestic leagues and most have played in Europe and they are all in their younger years.

No. 2 - He has to think about one or even two central defenders, one established and maybe one younger one. Vermaelen was one of the signings of last summer and he will need someone of the same calibre to partner him next season, Sol Campbell and Silvestre are on the way out and even Gallas is starting stroke his white beard and with Song, I think he has become more of a defensive midfielder and is doing a stand up job aswell and when Johan Djourou comes back I'm sure he will be a reliable squad player. Gary Cahill, I definitely think should be top of Wenger's list, also Brede Hangaland would be a quality signing and I don't know how it would go down in the camp but Shawcross being signed might be an interesting story. Per Krøldrup from
Fiorentina might be a bit old but could be interesting to see how he plays for Denmark in this World Cup.

No. 3 - Try and keep the injuries to as little as possible, what a nightmare they
have had this season, currently this is their injury list - Vermaelen, Gallas, Song, Gibbs, Djourou, Fabragas, Arshavin, Denilson, & Ramsey.

Anyway, that is that, open that cheaque book Arsene and it will be very interesting summer

For those interested, checkout this blog - http://www.oleole.com/blogs/arseblog

All You Can Feet

One of the things that has started to excite me about Dublin is the fact that we have started to come around to the idea of 'All You Can Eat' options in restaurants. As I stroll the streets of Dublin, day in, day out, I am noticing more and more of them springing up. Finally, restaurateurs are coming around to my kind of thinking. Sadly, the only problem is they don't no how to fucking do it. The food is always horse shit which brings me to my latest restaurant review, the Tasty Grill in Portobello.

Now, I know what you’re thinking before you have even thought it, 'What do you expect from the Tasty Grill, Jack, did you really think it was going to be quality food?' and I say to you 'Yes, I do.' If someone opens a place that serves food, I expect that food to be at even an adequate standard. If it's not going to be don't open up, or I will disembowel you with a very big sword.

Myself and my mate, Darren, were walking up through Rathmines in search of an establishment in which to dine, we had worked up a hunger like you couldn't believe and we felt it was a perfect time to address this starvation. Where to go? This is when I remember noticing a sandwich board out side one of the places in Portobello on my way home from town the day previous. All You Can Eat, I thought to myself, I am going to put these chunfellas out of business. I'm going to Mexico with this shit, get ready lads, Jack is here, keep the food coming.

Okay, we enter the place which looks like a standard kebab shop and one thing that stood out for me was the lack of a buffet set up which is what I thought the whole 'All You Can Eat' thing was about, self service kind of thing, ye know. No, it was some dude behind a counter that looked more confused than I did when I asked about the buffet and the fact that there wasn't one there for us to gorge off. He explained to myself and a very sceptical, Darren that the ' All You Could Eat' included all the burgers on the menu, chips and donor kebabs, chicken kebabs and some kind of chicken curry that looked not to bad to the eye.

'Okay, bro, hit me up with that Curry with some rice and I'll grab some chips aswell.'

'I'll get the same.' says Darren

We take our curries, he sticks on the chips.

We sit in the empty place and the guy obviously realises that he has customers and whips on some tunes to entertain us while we eat. Greatest Hit of Arab Trad Music. Thanks dude.

We delve into our curries and we quickly find out that the chicken in the curry was still on the bone, not only that but each chunk was about eighty percent bone. There was no chicken on the bad boys and the rice was as if it had been boiling for about a year. The sauce was okay but I was sure it was probably going to be responsible for the nice heart attack that will hit me in about 30 years.

Over come the chips which were the high point of the meal, chips ala ketchup ala mayo, a revolutionary new way to take chips. Anyway we ate what we could of the lot so it was time to try something else.

'Two Donors, please, dude.'

We sit and await our donors with eager anticipation and to say it reached our expectations was an understatement, one plate arrived over with strips of donor meat on it, doused it some donor sauce. No peta bread, No salad. Darren starts laughing and goes to your man -

'Eh, whats this?'

'What?' says your man

'Did we not ask for a donor kebab each?'

'This is donor'

'You wanna stick them into 2 peta breads, bro, with a bit salad too?'

'Okay'

Another ten minutes pass and back over with the donors in 2 burnt petas and we reluctantly eat what we can and say to each other 'Lets get the fuck out of here.' We pay our €7.50 each reluctantly and walk out in the most disgruntled fashion, worried about the fact that we were both probably pregnant after that. It was then when I vowed to take these guys down in the only way I knew how. Blog the fucking shit out of them. Please if your reading this don't go to the Tasty Grill in Portobello, you will regret it, I swear, if you don't want it to burn every time you take a piss, please, consider some where else.

CIE - Constantly Irritating Ejjits

The door opens, myself and Tara stroll on

'Two one thirties to Harold's Cross, please.'

'What'

'Two one thirties to Harold's Cross.'

'What are you on about?'

'How much to Harold's Cross then?'

'One fifteen'

'Okay, Two one fifteen'

'That’s two thirty'

'Yeah, I know'

And the wanker shakes his head as if I'm supposed to know the fucking prices. Nothing happened there except the bus driver was being a cunt while doing his job. It's his job to tell what the prices are, or if not have some sort of notice up which I'm probably not going to read. Now take me to wherever the fuck I’m going and step on it because I have better things to be doing than standing here trying to figure out what smells so bad in here, you or that old lady with the beard.

And another thing that I just can't let go about the whole CIE bus area of my life is this new €50 cent inner city travel fare, I remember hearing about this and thinking, as person who does a considerable amount of inner city travelling by bus, that this was delightful idea and to whoever came up with the idea, you should be applauded. So there I was leaving a mates gaf to head into work, and when I say work, I mean dole office, waiting for a bus at Leonard's Corner. Along come a 16a, I jump on with my 50 cent.

'Aungier Street, please, inner city fare.'

The fucker scowls at me

'You're too far out'

'Sorry' says I

'You're too far out for inner city fare, you have to be in the inner city.' says he

'So Leonard's Corner isn't in Dublin City Centre.'

'No!'

'So when does the inner city start?' I says

'Georges Street'

'Okay, when does it end?

'Top of O'Connell Street'

Now, these are the kind of small things that I get presented with every day that make me want to go find someone who is selling guns, buy the most vicious weapons he has and just get medieval on the people of Dublin.

What is the fucking point in implementing a new inner city fare on Dublin Bus, have a whole advertising campaign around it, telling people what it is all about to realise when you use it, the fucker only entitles you to four fucking tops. I know Dublin is small but for fuck sake.

Dublin Inner City starts and ends at the canals, now, extend that fucker or I will.

New York city

I just want to start this blog by saying, I have never understood the whole R n B - Hip Hop domination of the music industry in the states over the last ten years, I just never got into it. I hated it to be honest with you. I found the commercial scene to be so cheesy and bland, and I couldn't understand what everyone was going on about, but there is a track out at the moment that has caught me, it has hooked me. Empire State of Mind by Jay Z ft Alicia Keys.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0UjsXo9l6I8

Now, I have nothing of either of these guys on my itunes or in my cd collection but I've heard it about 6 times over the last couple of days and every time I completely stop what I’m doing, and I have to listen to it. It reminds me exactly what it felt like to walk the streets of New York City when I was younger. Heading up to some theatre off Broadway to see my oul'one after one of her shows, being up the Empire State with my oul'lad, walking from that 5 trek from Wall Street to Canal Street to Central Park with my bro, The only way to describe it is FUCKING AMAZING. You feel like you’re in a movie or something. They nailed it in that song. I have got to get my arse back there. I fucking love that city. Anyone fancy it, this city is joke.

Go Tiger!

Does anyone else think that Tiger Woods is full of shit? All this absolute horse shit about 'I am terribly sorry about the selfish behaviour I engaged in.' Am I hearing this shit right or is this man apologising to the world about riding a loads hot birds and why is everyone buying this so called apology, everyone seems to be believing every word. Sorry, Tiger, the only reason why you are sorry, mate, is because you got fucking caught.

Are you tell me that if you hadn't of got nicked shagging all those birds that one day you would of come to a realisation that what you were doing was wrong and just stop it. That a natural guilt would hit you and you would realise, 'Holy Shit, I am loosing control here with all these birds. I better stop' Not that I am dissing you for what you were doing, man, I don't care if you are into forearm sex in some dominatrix' dungeon, it doesn't matter to me, fair play to you, in fact, but don't give me a line shite. You were absolutely loving the buzz and don't lie. You were sleeping with an array of models and pornstars, you were thoroughly enjoying yourself. You were very aware of what you were doing, don't tell me your judgment was clouded or I will start hitting things. It was clouded because you were probably to busy trying to judge what was the best way to tear of that porn stars thong off.

And what are you apologising to me for? Why are you apologies to the press? Are you trying to rub it in that you are having a better time than us? Why are you apologising to anyone other than your wife and why do you think I might care. Do you really think I give a fuck?

When all this shit broke about Tiger's sex marathon with all those women, I remember thinking, what is the big deal? Fair play to him, oh my god, what a fucking legend. They have actually found a way for me to pay attention to golf. Tiger Wood has affairs with loads of women. Who gives a shit? I don't know his wife, I've never seen a picture of him with his wife before all this, sorry, but people have done worse, a lot worse. It's not like he has been caught in a hotel room with 2 midget prostitutes with an 8 ball of Charlie. He had conceptual sex with a few adults; fair play is the only thing on my mind.

And then there is this shit about - 'he lied to us' . . . . . . So! He is not the president of America, he is a fucking golfer. He can be lying his arse off and it should matter to anyone, he is a golfer. Not only a golfer but the best golfer, the best golfer world has ever seen, that is it, he can do what he wants. Everyone mind your own fucking business, who gives a fuck what the guy does. The people of golf should be kissing his arse; he has done more for that boring ass sport than anyone ever has. So anyone in golf that has a problem, sit down and shut up.

It now looks like I'm sticking up for Tiger and I was until he started coming out and saying sorry. Just stop, Tiger, stop, fire that stupid PR person and listen to me. You are an icon, you don't have to apologise to anyone. You are a billionaire, bro; don't worry about it if you loose that advertisement deal or that sponsor. You are a billionaire. You are one of the richest men to ever play sport. You are this generations Muhammad Ali and Michael Jorden. Trust me when I tell you, golf need you more than you need golf. Please stop with this lame apologetic bullshit character because you are just wrecking my head.

Cutting The Schmada Short

Okay, my bird is down the country visiting her aunty, I'm chilling on my own in my gaf, bored to tears, I have been grazing for about 4 hours now. Every once and a while I try to think of something to write about in my blog. I am finding really hard over the last while and I don't want to write anything unless it’s really worth it. I cook myself some more food, I flick back and forth from the Fulham match to the Liverpool match. I then give the Irish Dragons Den a go after that and my toes start to curl upright within minutes. I start to flick . . . . . . There is nothing on . . . hold on . . . . . holy shit, TV3 are showing Miller's Crossing. Amazing, I haven't seen this film in ages. Jesus, this channel is not all bad. On we go, into the movie. I can't wait this, me and Aaron used to watch this film the whole time.

'Casper, your as big as your gonna be and don't forget it, now, take your flunky and dangle.'


'So I suppose you think you raised hell?'

'Sister, when I raise hell you'll know it.'


'Ye know, Tom, I heard the phone ring but didn't answer it, I figured it wasn't for me.'


And in the middle of a scene, not the end of a scene, the middle of a scene.

And not only the middle of a scene but the middle of some characters line, a real important line, we cut to an ad break.

Jedward and all the other X Factor Stars this year at Trabolgan. What the fuck!

At last, I am so enraged that I have something to write about on my blog. For fuck sake. Like if you are ever stuck for something to get pissed off about, have no fear, TV3 is here. The film is back on now and all I am waiting for is to see at what scene are they going to cut to another ad break at now.

I can see it now, Albert Finney will be milling all those lads out of it in his gaf, and that iconic moment when he has killed everybody, he stops takes out his cigar and takes a drag while that recording of Frank Paterson is singing Danny Boy. Just before he takes the drag, and that moment is captured, it will cut to 'the freshness of Frebreze'.

Are they that broke in there that they need some machine to call the ad breaks, call them whenever there is a brief break of silence, well I hope that’s what it is. I understand when they do it during their day time shows, the ad breaks are the best part about those shows, but to be at it in the middle of a scene.

Anyway, I going to go back to the film and try to enjoy it, hay, at least, I got something to write about in my blog . . . . . . fucking TV3 . . . . Ps if you haven't seen it as yet, get your ass out and buy a copy of Miller's Crossing.