Friday, May 28, 2010

NTL - No Televisual Love


I am coming to the end of my tether with NTL at this point. I came home on Monday after a strenuous first day at work and to my surprise both my digital television and the broadband were not working, Tara had been working that day as well and we both very much needed some good old fashioned televisual viewings. I pull out the television to see if there is anything loose. Everything looks grand so I 1908 the fuck out of that shit.

'I'm sure it just needs to be reset or something.' I thought

The woman at the other end of the phone asked me the standard question about loose wires and plugging it out for 10 seconds then plugging it back in. Nothing worked so I was going to have to have someone out to the gaf and fix it. My next question -

'So when could this happen? Tomorrow?' I say to the girl

'Thursday morning' she says,

'Thursday morning?' I say

'Yes,' she says

'But its Monday,' says I

'It is'

'So I'm supposed to go the next three day without internet in my gaf? I ask her.

'I'm afraid so.'

'Why is that?' I ask her

'Well, Sir, we have a lot of customers and we don't have enough drivers.'

I then went into a massive speech about the amount of people out there looking for work and on the dole, waiting for a job to come up and there is NTL, badly in need of staff. Employ more staff, you saps. It’s not like being a cable guy is rocket science or anything .

Cut to the next day

I'm in work, watching the students bring this mother to life. It's really starting to take shape now, I know all the characters now, all the different little story lines and, yeah, it's not looking too bad.

Out of nowhere, my phone rings, I leave the rehearsal room to answer it and I am greeted at the other end by this chun'fella who works for one of these market research companies. Now, I would have normally refused to do the survey but it was on the reliability of NTL, so I couldn’t say no. To say I ripped them a new arse hole is an understatement. I gutted to them and at the end of my five minute tirade, I say -

'How was that for you?'

'Grand, Sir'

I hang up. 2 hours later I get a phone call on my lunch. I was thoroughly enjoying a steaming big plate in Govindas and it was tasty as a motherfucker. That pinir shit is the bomb. Anyway, the phone rings. I answer and it is another NTL person asking would it be okay to change my Thursday morning appointment to a Friday morning appointment. Now, I was loving my meal too much to be getting angry, I just wouldn’t be able to handle it if they wrecked my meal but I knew, one thing was for sure, Tara's reaction . . . . . ‘Hell Hath No Fury’ situation. She had this week off and with no internet in the gaf, I could think of anything more shit and no digital too. She was gonna be livid.

When I got home and told her this on the Tuesday evening, she just decided to get the fuck out of dodge, just go, see ye. Greg, Aaron, Siobhan, Paddy and Clare and Co. were all down in Siobhan's gaf in Kerry so quicker than you can say Piece of Shit Cable Company, she was down in Kerry.

Cut to Wednesday, yesterday.

I am walking to the Rathmines Auction, in hope to find that massive coffee machine needed in the show, the phone rings.

'Hello'

'Heellou, is this Jack Hollohan'

'Yes, this is Jack Olohan.'

I'm not one of these people that gets pissed off with people getting my name wrong, in fact, I couldn't give a bollix but how do people think the pronunciation of Olohan is Hollohan. I have one question, where is that H coming from. I'm not angry, I'm just puzzled. Confused

'This is Una from NTL' I hear,

'Here we fucking go.' I thought

'I believe there is something wrong with your digital television.'

'You would be believing correctly,' I answer

'Are you at home? I think I might be able to fix your digital over the phone'

'I am in work.'

'Oh, okay,' (Like as if this was the weirdest thing in the world) 'When would be best for you?'

'Half Six' I say

'No problem, I will ring you then'

'You will definitely ring me at half six then?' I say

'Yes'

'Definitely, yeah'

'Yes' she says

Right, I go and I hang up

I get home; I make myself a salad to die for. I get it into me and if I do say so myself, it was some serious gourmet shit. Quarter past six, twenty past, twenty five past, half and before I knew it, it was near seven. Once again, I 1908 the fuck owa ja. Now, I tell the girl that I eventually get after about 10 minutes of holding, that I was in contact with some technical person earlier today and that they said they could fix my digital over the phone. This girl took me through what I had to do and low and behold, it didn't work.

I then went into the fact that my girlfriend was away and that I wasn't going to be here on Friday morning and was it possible for someone to come over during the weekend or in the evening time.

'No, I'm afraid not, Sir'

'Why is that now?' I ask

'Because the drivers stop every day at half five and the only weekend free is in 2 weekends.'

'So how do you accommodate customers that work the regular 9 - 5 working week?

Silence at the other end of the phone

'Hello!'

'Hello' I hear

'Can you answer me,' I ask with the fury of a thousand suns, 'What happens when a single man, living on his own, who works in a bank or something and this shit, happens to him. Do you just have them wait until there is a free weekend or something?'

'Sir, it is not company policy to have technicians working after 6'

I then started up, I opened up on the poor unfortunate girl, I verbally pummelled her. All I can say, is that it lasted about fifteen minutes, I shouted, I think, at one stage, she was crying. Lets just say, I am not gonna have my digital back any quicker but I am getting a phone call in the next 48 hours for NTL Management with an apology for being such dickheads. That will do for me.

You know what the real problem is here though. NTL, this so called UPC company.

'Bringing Digital To Everyone', I think that is there motto. Well, not to me they aren't.

But the problem is, is that you need a land line to get SKY which I am not getting, myself and the t-bag would clock that bill up like a motherfucker, so that is out of the question. NTL is the only other option, the only other company. That’s it . . . I have an idea . . . How would you go about starting a digital television company. I'd say it is as easy as fuck. . . . . No worries, in fact.
Anyone interested?

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Treble Morto For Me


Treble Mortification City, USA for me, I just went up to the Gaiety School there to get my contract signed and I was greeted by a gaggle of Gaiety production gals celebrating Dublin's Fish n Chip Day in true style, well, one of them was delving into what only can be described as a vile looking battered burger, which doesn't really count as celebrating anything, does it, your just eating a battered burger, aren't you, no celebration there what so ever.

Anyways, immediately they started quoting the last 2 blogs I put up.

'Jesus,' I thought, 'What did I say in them?'

I was quickly scanning my brain to recap what exactly I went into, what I discussed coz as you know I can be incriminatingly honest in these things. I looked over there faces to see even the slightest look hostility . . . . . . they all seemed to be a positive enough.

'Phuh,' I thought, I knew this day was going to come eventually. Someone was going to read something that I wrote and that I had no idea if it was a good thing or a bad.

One of them was the manager of the Gaiety School and she told me, she was going to leave a comment simple reading -

'Handy Number? - You're Fired!'

Which pretty much would have made me do a motion in my kacks. I would have believed it. She should have done it. It would have scared the shit out of me.

Anyways, I told them I would try and keep as many daily blogs as I could throughout the five weeks and I that I would try and keep the language to a minimum . . . . . . . . I wonder how that’s gonna work. Anyone who read these things, which is probably very few, knows that there is nothing I love more than to use a good old impact word like c*** and m**********r. It is going to be f***ing hard.

Well, I better head back up to the room and see if the dance class is over.

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Let Me Out Or I'll Shoot My Way Out


Day 2 of the new job. I really had fuck all to do today but one thing I had to do, was to see if it was possible to get the roof garden open at the top of the building, our rehearsal space is on the fourth floor and the canteen is on the first so it would just be easier if everyone was able to eat their lunch out on the roof garden and with this weather, it would be perfect.

I stroll down to the front door man and ask, politely

‘Excuse me, my good man, but would it be possible for my colleagues and myself to consume our lunches upon your exquisite roof garden.’

He just stares at me, smiles and just starts shaking his head. No words, no reason, just a bitter little shit behind a desk, shaking his head, going out of his way to be a cunt.

‘Okay,’ I say ‘Who can I speak to about this?’

He shrugs his shoulders like he wasn’t even listening to me. I stare back at him for a
couple of seconds with a look of sheer disbelief. I go up to the admin offices up on the second floor. I knock in.

‘Hi, I am working in Workshop 5 on the 4th floor. I was wondering would it be possible if we were able to use the balcony at lunch’

The girl behind a desk looks at me.

‘No,’ she says, ‘health and safety.’

‘I’m a qualified health and safety officer,’ I say to your one, which I am not. I know First Aid but that is about it.

‘Sorry,’ we can’t.’

I leave and head back up to my rehearsal room and let the room know of the reasons why grown adults can’t go out on a standard, run of the mill roof terrace.

Then it dawns on me –

‘Why the fuck did they have a balcony?’

All the people in the building, bar the 2 girls in the admin department and that sound cunt on the door, are exactly like me and I’m pretty sure that this is the case throughout the week. Why the fuck do you have the balcony, lads? Why the fuck do you have it? You have it to wined me up, aren’t you? And winding me you are.

Jack's First Day At Work


First day back on the job. First day since 3rd February. Fucking hell, that was a long time to be sitting on my hole. I know I needed a chill out after panto but that was ridiculous. To tell you the truth, I couldn’t wait for this day to arrive for the last while. I was getting bored to tears in the gaf, waking up every morning, no where I had to be, no list of shit to do, no horrible deadline, nothing. Just doing everything at my own pace without a care in the world. You would of thought that I might of got up to something a little bit constructive with my time. Well, that was the plan but if I think about it, I did fuck all. This blog was about it and let’s face it; I haven’t exactly been giving that 100%.

So here we go, the Gaiety School of Acting Grad Show again. Let’s do it. I am gonna get stuck into this. This is going to be the best performance by a stage manager the world has ever seen. I am going to own this motherfucker. I’m actually, for the first time in ages, gonna take a job seriously. Wow, I really am focused, amn’t I. Holy shit! My head is so clear. I’m ready to tear this job a new arsehole.

I was kind of shitting myself this morning. Ye know, the way you are before a new job, you might only know one or two heads, sometimes you might know nobody. I know the director and the production team vaguely, they’re all cool but I don’t know any of the students and those are the people I’m gonna be working closest with. So first impressions and all that. I don’t know what it is, I always have a thing about first impressions, they are massive, especially when you are being introduced to 21 strangers at the same time. Seriously, it’s like that, that is how I’m introduced to them. I sometimes think that it might be a good idea to crack a joke or something but, in the end, I come to my senses and realise that that would be the worst idea in the world.

I stroll in to meet everyone and it is grand.

We sit around for the reading of the new play and it is very hard to focus. The dialogue is very naturalistic and quick, there are 17 characters, and each scene is only about a page long. I’m trying to differentiate each character from the next. I am drifting in and out of concentration which is understandable. I have fuck all to be doing except timing the fucker. I will let the director bring it to life in front of me. I’m sure I’ll get it when they’re blocking it.

At lunch, we have a productions meeting and this is where I kick into gear and, by the end of it, the only thing I realise is that this is going to be one of the handiest numbers of my life. There are fuck all props, the set is minimal. . Oh, and if anyone knows where I could get one of those large coffee machines that they have in cafes, the big fuckers, it would make my life even more chilled out. I haven’t a clue where to even start with that shit but once I get that, it’s plain sailing. Gonna check out the ould auction up in Rathmines this Thursday for one, I’ve seen one or two in there from time to time.

After the meeting myself and the production manager, Tom, laughed about how easy our job is going to be. Anyway, my job, for the next couple of days, is to chill in the rehearsal room and make sure breaks are taken when they are supposed to and write a report of the day to everyone on the production team.

On other gigs, I can’t tell you some of the shit you have to do. You’re in charge of the tea and milk; make sure the burka boiler is filled, looking after screaming Billy Barry Kids, filling up dancer’s water bottles and making stupid props. On this gig, you take it at your own pace. You don’t have some boss giving you shit for no reason. Once you have your shit together, you get no hassle off anyone.

Great to be back at work and, do you know what else is savage, the rehearsal room is just off Talbot Street, right beside that place that sells Mega Drive games, I am gonna go to town in there on pay day.

My Thought Exactly


My mate, Shocko, is one of these people who knows all the savage stuff on You Tube, every time I’m doing the You Tube thing with him, it is just none stop shit you’ve never seen before and every time you bring a clip to the table, he has either seen it about twenty times or he was the guy who showed you in the first place. The reason I bring this up is, is because Shocko showed me something, the other night, that I thought was the coolest thing I have ever seen, it was something that I have wanted to express for so long about so many people out there and I was hearing my thoughts exactly through the mouth of this writer, Harlan Ellison. Check this clip out, myself and this guy agree on one thing, that is for sure.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mj5IV23g-fE

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Access My Arsehole


In the world of the premier league, we have been hearing about one thing for the last 24 hours. No, it's not Ben Foster's move from Man. Utd, it is the fact Cesc Fabregas has asked Arsene Wenger for a transfer from Arsenal to Barcelona.

Now, we all knew that this was going to happen eventually, Barcelona was Fabregas' original club, Barcelona is his home town and he has openly spoke about how he will one day play for Barca at some stage in his career. It was going to happen, it's just nobody thought it would be as soon as it was and as I glance over the Barcalona squad, I now realised what an amazing signing he will be for them. He will make that midfield a force to be reckoned with.

We all know the famous 4-3-3 formation of Barcelona, the centre midfield taking the defensive role, normally, taken by Busquets with Seydou Keita covering on the bench and the 2 other wider midfielders going more forward, taking on this dual attacking midfielder role which has been filled by Xavi and Iniesta for the last 2 seasons and, if you look at the squad, there is not much cover for either of these players, that seriously showed against Inter in my opinion with Iniesta out. Yaya Toure who is a natural defensive player or someone like Messi dropping back from a forward position, they need cover. Now, I am not for a second saying that Fabragas would be just cover for Xavi and Iniesta but if you rotate the three players and to always have that option on the bench. Amazing! They will be quality.

On to Arsene Wenger. This could not be more of a nightmare for the Frenchman. He has basically built that team around the cunt. Not only does he have to think big in the goalkeeper and defensive department this summer but he, now, has a leading playmaker to think about as well and a fucking captain. It is not looking good at all. But, you know what, there is a way out if this and it is very simple. What every Arsenal fan I know has been saying for the last 2 seasons - 'Wenger, to open your fuckin cheque book,' and you know what, he hasn't got much choice now. What a start to the summer. I can't wait to see who get buys.

Maybe Van Der Vaart from Real Madrid, he only played 20 games and he might be a bit pissed off, see how he gets on in the World Cup for Holland or Stephen Ireland, we all know how good he can be and he is gagging to move. Arteta would be also a sweet signing or, the coming of age, Charles N'Zogbia who basically ran the Wigan team out of relegation this season.

Should be interesting

Monday, May 17, 2010

I Knew About All This



Here is another thing that has been picking away at my brain for the last while, well, since it started showing on television. It's an ad campaign that stars Benico Del Toro, this Angelina Jolie look a like and it's for the new Magnum Gold ice cream.

Now, I know where this idea came from, I have it all broken down in my head exactly how that whole thing started. So get ready because I am going to show exactly how basic the whole marketing business is. This is what happened.

Magnum are about to launch their new ice cream bar called Magnum Gold and with that they want to create this huge brand awareness thing around the whole thing so to do that they have decided to throw a couple of million at the campaign. We want an amazing ad that kind of looks like an action film and we want with actual film star in it too. We want the script to be vaguely similar to 1 or 2 very successful block busters over the last couple of years and in doing that people will go out in their droves and get stuck into some Magnums.

Do you want to know the 2 words that drifted through my head as I watched that ad for the first time, you will probably scratch your head in confusion when I utter them to you. But these 2 words, I would say, were used quite a bit in the early development of this ad. I can see the 2 girls that were in charge, they must have been in love with these 2 words and those 2 words are

'Brad Pitt'

'Brad Pitt?' I hear you say.

'Brad Pitt,' I say,

When those 2 dolly birds left that office where they were told about this huge campaign and that they were to be the one to put into fruition. They sat down after meeting with their 'creative' team and they bashed out a really dodgy mixture of Mr. & Mrs. Smith and Oceans 11. Instead of the couple being assassins they are bank robbers and instead of them being a group of 11 bank robbers, they are a married couple. What do those 2 films have in common? Brad Pitt.

Now, they obviously can't afford Brad Pitt but we need someone who is a regular in films, not too expensive and has weird kind of a Brad Pitty smell off him. I love Benico, I think he is a fucking amazing actor but what I am asking here is -

'Why Benico?'

Why, out of all of Hollywood, did you pick Benico Del Toro? Benico Del Toro has never been in a blockbuster in his life. His biggest film to date, I would say, has been Sin City or Wolfman or maybe, the film he won his Oscar for, Traffic. Other than he has made really small, independent films like Usual Suspect or Way of the Gun or 21 Grams or those Che Guevara movies. That’s what has been bugging me from the very start and then I remembered, a few years ago I listened to the directors commentary of Snatch with Guy Richie and Matthew Vaughan talking over the film, telling stories about shit that happened on set and I remember whenever Benico came on screen, they both called him Brad, messing. I remember wondering why they were calling him Brad until it got to the point where Brad Pitt came on screen and they started calling him Benny, obviously, short for Benico. Later they basically explain that on set, people were constantly mixing the two of them up.

Now, either one of the girls worked on snatch or they were in the same situation as me, they listen to the audio director commentary and realised that people might confuse Benico with Brad and they will get him nice and cheap. I would say that this gig was the best paid gig Benico has ever had, as I said everything he has ever made has been very independant.

Okay, we have our Oscar winning movie star that looks vaguely like Brad Pitt, we have our script that is a mesh of Ocean 11 and Mr. & Mrs. Smith, we have to get a really tasty Angelina Jolie look-a-like and we are fucking laughing. No worries, I'm sure there are plenty out there.

Now there shooting of the ad, they even take things from the films. Remember when you first met Don Cheadle's character in Oceans 11. He is using this elaborate explosive devise where it is a series of explosions that blow around the safe door. They do the exact thing in the ad, they also use that green computer blue print affect that they use quite regularly in both films.

Anyway if you were like me and were wondering what is the crack with that ad is, well, there you go. Anyway, my point is, actually, I don't know what my point is . . . . . . . shit! I thought I had a point. . . . . . . . . . . . No, it's gone from me. Anyway, see ya!

Thursday, May 13, 2010

Eating Henry


Okay, I have come to a conclusion, one that I have been trying to figure out for about two and a half years, as long as the show has been on in fact. It has been wrecking my head for so long and now I am finally at ease.

For years I have taken a massive interest in English history, the history of the monarchy. I find all that shit fascinating. Since I was a kid, I was over in London a lot visiting my folks when they were on tour, I would always be brought to stuff like the Tower of London or the Crown Jewels and you would be told all about the history of it and the stories behind all of it. And through my teens, as everyone did, you would be checking out stuff like Braveheart, Elizabeth etc and eventually an interest started to fester with me. Then myself and my oul'fella started to get stuck into these documentaries about each individual king and queen of England, going right through the history from the start and next thing I knew I was Wikapediaing the fuck out of it in my spare time. I love it.

But one king, of course, stands out as being the most interesting, the most charismatic, the most intriguing, the most eccentric. The most famous king to ever rule Britain - King Henry VIII. He is everybody’s favourite. He has been written about in literature and portrayed in theatre and film more than any other monarch in history starting with Shakespeare's final history play - The Famous History of the Life of King Henry the Eight.

There have been libraries of film and television based around him with top actors like Richard Burton, Charles Laughtan (the guy who played the hunchback in the hunchback of Notre dame), Robert Shaw (The hard cunt from Jaws), Charlton Heston, Brian Blessed, Ray Winstone and Eric Bana, all nailing his character. One of the most eccentric motherfuckers to ever walk the earth. 6 wifes, 2 of those were beheaded on his command and to divorce one of the others, he changed his religion, from Catholic to Protestant; this decision would be one of the catalysts that stirred one of the biggest hatreds between two religions in the history of the world. All because Henry wanted his hole off another bird.

So, anyway, you can understand that the show, 'The Tudors' was going to interest me. I love all that shit. An American funded series made in Ireland. In Ardmore Studios in Bray, acted by some Irelands top actors and I include Jonathan Rhys Myers in that group. Of course, I'm gonna take an interest in it. I watched the first season of it and I absolutely hated it. Okay, that is pretty obvious, seeing that it is crap but I have been raking my brains about 'why is it so successful?' How has something with such a bad script had such worldwide success? Jonathon Rhys Myers has been nominated for a Golden Globe two years in a row for this thing. What is the crack? It has Emmys coming out of its arse.

Firstly, Jonathon Rhys Myers could not be more wrong for the part if he tried. Henry VIII wasn't a 5'8 pretty boy with twinkling eyes and blow job lips. He looked something more down the lines of Lawrence Dilallio and around the time of Catharine Howard, which is the point we are at in the show at the moment, he looked more like Johnny Vegas or Peter Kay. He wasn't tasty looking; he looked like Sloth from the Goonies.

Secondly, I understand that back in those times, people were a little bit more promiscuous but this show takes the biscuit. Every second scene, if it isn't a full blown riding scene, there either talking about shagging or there is some level of heavy petting going on. The last episode, I saw 4 pairs of breasts. Now, I'm not complaining, I was on my own, I was watching the show, there had to be some reason why I was watching it. It wasn't the gripping narrative, I can tell you.

But I was discussing it in depth with my girlfriend, Tara, and we came to the conclusion. Both of those 2 points finally made sense. We figured out why it is such a success, why people are watching it in there droves. Ready for it. I am

It is soft porn. It is really, really, really soft porn. Respectable soft porn. House wife porn. It's in the same league as one of those erotic novels. It has all the characteristics of a nice and non-offensive porno. Look at it. All the birds in it are as tasty as fuck. I'm sorry but you go back to the mid-1500s, I can guarantee that you will be getting women sporting tashes, hairy pits, black teeth and you will not see one highlight in one head of hair. You’re not going to see a load of healthy looking, fresh faced beauties ready to do a little dance for you. Look at all the lads. They all look like they've just got out of a sun bed, their beards nicely trimmed and they are ripped out of it. My bollix! Its not only Jonathan that is missed cast, it’s ever bloke in the fucker. They look like they are about to step into a gap ad, everyone is so well toned and handsome. You just know they smell lovely. It's a porno. It's a porn film with a film star. I seriously would not be surprised if they all started to dawn mullets for the final season. It has nothing got to do with Henry VIII, the Henry VIII thing is only a back drop to a very upmarket, well funded, soft porno. It's the type of porno that people who hate porno can watch and get away with it and still speak out against porn.

What is the moral of this blog - Everyone Wants To Watch Porno.

And let me tell you, because I'm gonna anyway. Never was there a truer sentence spoken in the history of man. You are going to watch porno whether you like it or not because you know why? Because, the bottom line is, people like to watch other people fuckin! Now, frame that, learn it and go forth my friend and treat yourself to some nasty internet porn at once and enjoy it.

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Rest In Piece - The 108


I'm gonna get nice and sentimental for a second here. I went out to get some breakfast there the other day and I saw something that sparked an emotional flame in me, memories, shit I hadn't thought about in ages. For the first time a monument that was sort of a pivotal iconic symbol at one time in my life is now gone. It is no longer there. It seized to exist. It is no more. My first proper local.

The first time I remember going into a pub to actually have a drink, I was about 14 or 15, it was Paddy's Day and we all had our RTC Athlone IDs ready to go. These things were the dodgiest thing on the planet, my mate, Gal, made them up on his, then new, Windows 95. We scoured around town, looking for a place where we might get served a place that would accept or IDs. Eventually, we hit the downstairs bar of the International Bar. We gargled ourselves to fuck that day and it became an under age drinking spot for years but I never really felt that it was a local. We used to go there when we went to town but it never really did for me. I need a place where I felt perfectly at home to call it my local, or if that term meant anything at all which I was questioning at the time.

Another was the Eden Pub, up by Three Rock in Rathfarnham; I started working up there with a few mates so with that we all started drinking up there. Many a time I was getting between the owner, Patsy Kiernan, and customers. Holding them back so they wouldn't kill him. Anyways, in the end, he sacked me, eventually, because, not for lateness, not low work effort but because I had a navy coloured tie on, instead of a black one which he passionately wanted me to wear. I often thought to myself –

‘Was that the reason why he sacked me? Was there another reason?’

And maybe it was just the fact that he was a complete cunt that did it. Yeah, I'd say that had something to do with it. He sacked my mate, Willie, who had busted his chops up there for about 4 long years. Willie wanted to concentrate on his Leaving for a few months and not only did he fire him but he barred him too. So drinking there didn't really rock me or my mate’s boats after all that.

But it was when I went to the High School, Rathgar that I was to find my first proper local. I was about seventeen when I moved there so it was that time where everyone was starting to go to pubs, regularly. The whole knacker drinking thing was getting a bit old for everyone and the pub was the new place to be. It was completely different now and everyone was headed straight the pub - A PUB.

And where did all these new people in this new school hang out after school on a Friday?

The answer - The 108

The 108 in Rathgar was a bar smack bam in the centre of Rathgar Village, a sister pub of Comans, literally, Comans and the 108 stood next to each other, one on each corner of the main cross roads in Rathgar. Coman reminded me of the Eden. Full of wealth middle aged couples from the area also all the old High School alumni, who were just too ould to be drinking in the 108 anymore. The 108 had 2 floors, the bottom floor was full of locals, a dingy little shit hole where nobody ever went but you went upstairs, well, that’s where everyone was. Just young cunts left, right and centre. On a Friday night half your year was up there, gargling the fuck out of it.

The first time I went to the 'Oners', yes, we shortened it from the 108 to the Oners, . . . . . laugh all you want, it was the fuckin shit. Anyway, me and a couple of the lads went along to this Battle of the Bands thing on in the school. I was in fourth year, only about 4 month at the school, but, one of my best mates, Franko, had been in the school for years and he was a year ahead of me and he asked me

'Fancy a pint in the 108 after this?'

'Do I?' I says, I asks, 'Fucking right I do. Do you think we'll get in?'

'Not a fucking bothers.'

So up we legged it once the gig was over. The place was jammers, everybody from my year was there, now, at this stage I vaguely knew anyone, as I said I was only in the school about 4 months but they all made me feel right at home. I was getting fucking locked with my class mates and if my memory serves me correctly I ended up scoring one of the girls in my years mate.

'Fuckin Hell' I thought to myself, 'This is the fuckin shit!'

I couldn't believe it. Myself, Franko and a bloke from my year, Phil MacGouran, who I just kind of met, walked home pissed as farts and laughing our balls off in the depths of winter. This was a weekly trip myself; Franko, Phil and many others would take pretty much every weekend for the next 5 years or so.

It became that every week in school, the first half of the week was all about the last weekend in the 108 and the second half was about this coming Friday. Every Friday at about 8 o clock, I would stroll over to Phil's gaf, sometimes with Franko and we would pick up a mix of heads on our way down, the likes of Gregor Timlin and Chuck MacGarry to name a few and we would stroll up to Rathgar . . . . from Rathfarnham, what the fuck were we thinking? Sometimes it was in minus degree cold.

20 pounds was all you needed, 25 and you would be having a ball, First off, you would pick up a box of smokes which would set you back a fiver, you would get 5 pints for 12.50 and the last 2.50 in the chipper on the way home.

Now, I know everyone says that their pub on Christmas Eve is the shit, but my answer to that is no . . . . . simply, no. The fucking 108 was ridicules. Every cunt that was spawned from High School was there. Pretty much the whole alumni was between the 108 and Comans and when I say in between, I mean it, people out on that road that heads down to Harold’s Cross from Rathgar was just packed, literally, closed off with people and after the two places were finished, everyone was out on the road. One guy, and I'm not gonna naming names for the simply fact that this guys is probably a fucking accountant now or something, he had a tradition of getting naked (in the depth of Winter) and start jumping over moving cars that went through the village, this was all being cheered on by about a 1000+ drunkards getting ready to head home and rap their oul pairs presents. Some people actually had there oul'pairs present on them, one dude was wearing a dressing gown that he was giving to his Ma in the morning, For fuck sake.

One of the reasons why I haven't gone up there the last couple of Christmas' is everyone evolved over to Coman's . . . . . . with the wealthy, middle-aged, local couples . . . . no, thanks, I don't see my oul'pair enough, I'm gonna stall it in with them these days. I miss it every year though. One time me, Singo, Kieth Singleton, Gregor and Frank went on protest and drank downstairs in the 108, anything but Comans but sadly it fell on deaf ears.

But all of this went on for years. It was the local, we all knew the barmen, we knew all the customers. I remember the really depressing art work on the wall, the couple sitting next to each other but they were both sort of turning away from each other, both people sick of each other, it was a big fuck off mural on the wall.

Anyways, as I was walking around looking for a place to have breakfast last Sunday morning, around Ternure then up into Rathgar, I noticed that as I was walking through that the 108 building was gone; it was a massive pile of rubble. I stood there for about 5 minutes and immediately a shit load of memories came flooding back to me, stuff I hadn't thought about in ages. Now, I don't know what they are doing with the site, maybe, they are going to build a more improved 108 or maybe not but, not to get too sentimental but I just wanted to tip my hat to the 108 in my own little way and to anyone who knows what I'm on about, to anyone who drank there, help me, and lift your glass to the 108. One of my favourite pubs in Dublin.

Friday, May 7, 2010

The List



I want to start the first blog I have done in weeks with a simple tirade. ‘Here I am.’ I thought to myself. ‘I'm gonna take it easy this weekend. While everyone else is out getting fucked up and messy, here I'm gonna be all sober as a judge. Feeling great. Looking great. Smelling Great and not a session in sight. I'm just gonna check out some Late Late Show and chill. Make myself some food, have a beer and chill the fucking beans.

And it has all been fucking ruined.

Does everyone want to know why it's ruined? Well let me tell you all exactly why. This cunt, Jason Byrne has just cursed my television by appearing on it. The very second Tubers said his name; I was planning my own suicide. As the little prick made his way out onto the stage with his stupid face, I decided to make a list, the list, the list I have been threatening to make for years and I'm only beginning it now. Make a list of all these so called comedians and hunt them. That’s right, hunt them. I have been wondering what to do with myself for years and now, I know. I know what I was born to do. I finally know now. At last, I have a substantial ambition in life. And those ambitions consist of me finding all of these reprobates and riding them. Ride them until the botties are blue. I am going to gut the fuck out of all these little shits. I am going to rape them until they realise how funny they are not. Who the fuck told these little cretins they were funny? Who told them? I am going to dawn war paint, get a big black cape, a cool ass fucking weapon and stalk them. The next time the Byrne Ultimatum is on, watch it. I know it is hard but watch it. You will see blood shed. His blood shed. This has gone on too long and they need to be stopped.

It all started when I saw this documentary about the 'Renaissance in Irish Comedy' about a year ago. . . . . . . . A Renaissance . . . . . no . . . . . no, you cannot be serious . . . . I will be the liberator of comedy in this country. I will take an oath right now that I will not rest until all these little saps are over, finished, turned off. I'm gonna be like Paddy Considine in 'Dead Man's Shoes'. I'm gonna hit them all.

Jason Byrne is the obvious first choice because he is such a rancid little cunt, I'll make my bones with Jason. He will probably just get away with a manic clubbing to the skull and, let me tell you, that will be luxury to what awaits the rest of them. When I get going and when I start to get creative with the slaughter, well, they are gonna write about it. Those chunfellas are not gonna like it at all, not at all.

Second on my hit list is David MacSavage . . . . . . Sonny Jim, you are dead . . . . . . . . . You are ridden. . . You are rode. . . . . . I am gonna open you up like a pack of crips. . . To be as frank as I possible, David & Jason, if you’re reading which you are probably not, it is not going to be pretty. You will know my name as the Lord.

And as for Andy Maxwell and all the rest of you unfunny cunts on the panel. I don't know what you’re smiling at because you're after them. I will have you all burning at the steak with me standing in front of all the bonfires, naked, laughing. I am on a witch hunt and when I say witch, I mean, toe curlingly embarrassing little shits like you lot.

You think I'm messing? . . . . . You think I’m jokin? . . . . Do you? . . . . Where do you think Kathrine Lynch is? . . . . . . . In her gaf? In the pub? No! She is in the boot of my car with a stiff one up her Jackie.