Jacking Off

2011-11-22T16:51:00.000-08:00

Hi Everyone,

For anyone interested in reading more Jacking off as well as other blogs written by myself and others, check out www.radiomade.ie

2011-08-24T00:41:00.000-07:00

Something is weird this year, something is a miss, no one seems to be up for the Electric Picnic. What is the fucking crack? Normally, it is the only weekend on the Irish calendar where everyone is within a 4 kilometre radius of each other, down in Stradbally. But this year, I know fuck all people that have confirmed that they will be down at the Picnic giving it the large one. Has it lost it’s appeal? Are we all just getting a little bit too old for it? No, fuck that, the Electric Picnic is still the best weekend Ireland has to offer and you must be joking if we’re getting to old for it. I will be doing festivals when I’m in my Zima frame and wearing nappies.

What is it though? Is it the weather? Last years Picnic weather was taking the piss. Myself and my two mates, Jordi & Aaron were heading down on the Friday morning nice and early to get ourselves a tasty spot in the Jimi Hendrix campsite. The sun was splitting the stones and it looked as though we were on for the best weather the Picnic has ever seen. The Friday was lovely, right through but everyone awoke on the Saturday morning to see doom and gloom. It was the greyest, dullest morning ever but it wasn’t raining so that was the main thing, everyone spoke to soon. As Leftfield were finishing up what was probably the best live show I have ever seen at the Picnic, the heavens opened. It was on and off until Sunday morning. That is when what looked like a hurricane hit Stradbally. On the Sunday, it pissed, it pissed worse than anything you could ever imagine. I remember sitting in my tent, the rain lashing against the side of it and I’m listening to a game of charades in the tent next to me. ‘This is not very Picnic, I thought to myself.’ I step out to maybe see if there is anyone to talk to under the gazebos, not only were there no people but there were no gazebos. Out of three gazebos, none of them we still standing, one had fell where it stood, one was on top of Jordi’s tent with him inside asleep and as for the third one, God knows, it was no where to be seen. I know that experience, on the Sunday, was not that pleasurable and people might be holding off til nearer, to see what the weather is like. As we all know it has been officially the worst summer in Ireland since they starting measuring that shit.

Also, everyone seems to be broke and just can’ afford it, I know I’m in that boat for sure. To go the Picnic, it costs one at least 500 quid. 250 for the ticket, tent / sleepingbag / etc at least 30, gargle going down 50, smokes going down 30, food and drink when you’re down there a least 70 euro a day. So you’re actually talking the best part of 500 to 600 euro for the weekend. But I have never missed a Picnic, I been to every single one of them and I am not ready to start missing them, I will get down there. I have entered every single competition known to man inculuding the one I won last year, the Heiniken Competition. Instead of of being asked who I would go with to the Picnic, they are asking us to come up with a line-up for this years Heiniken Electonica Bar, a five slot line-up. I need these tickets, I hope it’s a enough, check it out –

One must consider many things before being asked to do this extraordinarily important job. First off, first and foremost, you must ask yourself one thing - Are you worthy? Are you really worthy enough to take control of one of the slickest areas at one of the slickest festivals in the world? Are you? Do you honestly believe that you have it in you to put together a line up so sweet that it might rival last years or any year for that matter? Do really think, hand on heart, you have what it takes? My answer to this easy question is simply – Yes, I am, . . . . . . Surprised at my answer, I didn’t think so. I have been waiting my whole life to be given an opportunity to prove myself in this field, and now, that day has finally come. This year I will pick a line up so amazing, so entertaining, so outrageously funkadelic that the EP revellers will not know how to contain themselves, it will be like nothing we’ve every seen before.
I presume the day in question will be the Friday night; I want the Heineken Electronica Bar looking at its best for this. Of course, an insane amount of effort will go into the décor of the bar; there will be a ridiculous amount of lights & lasers ready to go & the bar staff will be on the top of their game. The place will look great; the place will look ready, ready for the best gig the Picnic has ever seen. Doors of the Picnic normally open at around 3pm so that gives me around 9 hours to play with, as I presume the tunes will go til midnight at least.
Let’s look at the DJ booth, a very important aspect, it will be kitted out to the absolute max. Brand new, mint condition Technic 1210s, even though they have stop producing these beauties, I still manage to get a set made especially for the gig. CDJ 2000 – the new ones that cost a fortune and beside that, a whopper rig of synths, keyboards & drum machines all hooked up to the most obnoxious set of speakers the world has ever seen, these bad boys are gonna blow people into next week. There will also be a high platform stage erected for any special guests who might pop out for an occasional appearance. I cannot wait!
Anyway, the time has come, the weekenders have entered the arena and they are all headed straight for the Heineken Electronica Bar for one of the best nights of their young lives. First act up, the suspense is killing everyone, its Muzik Box legendary DJ, Ron Hardy, featuring Holly Johnson from Frankie Goes to Hollywood on live vocal. Everyone stands, scratching their heads in confusion until the two lads kick into the tune that made them both famous – ‘Welcome to the Pleasure Dome’, this tune is the only tune to get a sweet day of music going, and house and 80s synth from there on in. An hour and a half goes by and Ron Hardy finally collapses off the stage as usual. The audience eagerly awaits the second act, its 4.30, everyone gets themselves tasty refreshing brewsky and all they hear from behind the curtain is – ‘Ski-Ba-Bop-Ba-Dop-Bop’, Oh, my God, could it be, no . . . . Yes, yes it is, IT’S THE SCATMAN! The Scatman proceeds to lash out as many nineties hits as he possibly can over his hour and a half set, while enthusiastically scatting into the mic when ever he can. The crowd at this stage have their glow sticks out and are raring to go.
It is time for slot number 3, 18:00 – 20:00, and coolly strutting up to the DJ booth with the tenacity in the world, is Paradise Garage Legend, the one, the only – Larry Levan. One massive spot light on the man himself, he lifts his first record high into the air and the crowd is going ballistic. His first track is ‘Love Temptation’ and with that who appears on the stage to accompany him on vocals but the late, great Lolita Holloway. She breaks out into a vocal so unbelievably powerful that people are moved to tears in the audience. This is just none stop for the next 2 hours, disco, disco and more disco, the only word to describe the dance floor is boppin.
By the time 8 o clock rocks around, pretty much half the festival is at the bar, the atmosphere is incredible; every person has a Chester Cat grin on their face as they wait to see who will be the penultimate act. The curtain is pulled, sitting there at the keyboards and synths is a very cool Mark Ronson who stands and grabs the mic. He shouts, ‘I’m only here for one reason and one reason only, and that is to back up my lil sista, take it away, Amy.’ And with that appearing on the stage beside him, for one last gig, Amy Winehouse. Mark is sampling old soul records on the decks and mixing them with original synths and piano. Amy is launching into some unforgettable lyrics throughout and finally finishes with a known favourite, you know which one, she then walks off with a smile and wave – love you, Amy.
The crowd at this stage can’t believe what has gone on here today, this is only day one of the Picnic and we have already had a bunch of DJs along with some extra special guests that cannot be rivalled and there is still one more act to go. Who the hell is it? It could be anybody in the history of the world. Who possibly could it be?
A load drown is heard from the speakers, the lights go completely down, the curtain goes back, no one can quite make out who it is. One bloke by the decks and another by the keys, a third bloke is on the stage with a mic. Who are these mystery men? Reveal yourselves! One of them lifts his arm as the beat of ‘Song of Life’ comes in, yes, it is Neil Barnes AKA Leftfield on the Decks but who is it accompanying him on keys and vocal, this is has got to be epic. The keys suddenly kick in and it none other than Ludwig Von Beethoven on keys, wig on and everything. The place is erupting into frenzy. Everyone is dancing their arses off and waving their arms in the air, so much so that don’t even care. But who is our guest MC, who is the guy whose gonna drop some serious rhymes and take the roof off this place. The lights hit the stage hard and fast, standing there, fully kitted out in the usual garb is MC Willy Shakespeare and he rinses into some hardcore Elizabethan flows. The Barnes and Ludwig are perfectly in sync with each other while Willy is up there waxing lyrical about love, hate and revenge – ‘A plague on both your moth***kin houses’. It ends with such an eruption of applause that it continues for about fifteen minutes, people are in shock.
In a gig of final sets, that was the final set. People walk away flabbergasted, they will speak of it in years to come, they will tell their children and their children’s children. It will be hoisted amongst the great gigs of modern times – Woodstock, Burning Man, Glastonbury, and it will most definitely, for sure, put the Heineken Electronica Bar on the Electric Picnic Map forever. Come on the Electric Picnic 2011!

That’s it, anyway, I’m very fearful that they will remember my name from last year and feel like they have to give to someone else. That will break my heart, fingers cross.

The Search for the Evilest Men in Hollywood - 2

2011-07-02T04:38:00.000-07:00

Day 2 on my search for the most evil motherfuckers in Hollywood, lets go! My sickness, I can feel its starting to lift, I can breathe through my nose, I don’t feel like I have lung cancer anymore but the aces, pain and weakness have yet to shift. I think I caught this one before it got epically nasty, thank Christ. I have found a new thing to get me through a flu, the worst thing for me is always that I can never sleep, I just cant, because the cough is too harsh, I lie down a cough like a mad thing – I have a new secret – Benolyn Night Nurse, the drowsy shit – Fuck me, does that shit work. Two table spoonfuls of that stuff and, I swear to God, you are feeling drowsy by the time your ass is back on the couch, about to watch your tenth episode of the West Wing, it has saved me. Anyway, less talk about how shitty I’m feeling and more talk of nasty bastards and how they have made characters in movies feel shitty on numerous occasions. My first of the day is, villain extraordinaire, David Patrick Kelly,

Kelly’s film debut appearance kicked off his career as an evil little cunt with flying colours; he plays the little psycho leader of the Rogues, Luther in the ultimate cult classic The Warriors. He, of course, is the catalyst that kicks off the hunt for the Warriors. Supposedly on the set, in that famous last scene, the Rogue car pulls up in front of The Warriors and Kelly, who is in the car, was supposed to just hit the horn a few times, but instead he improvised this – legend

Kelly’s next movie, he was reunited with the director of The Warriors in the Eddie Murphy / Nick Nolte movie, 48 Hours, where surprisingly enough he plays a horrible little weasel, yeah, I think that is a perfect way to describe every character this guy plays. Coincidentally, his character again was named Luther.
Next film, Kelly would play the character that I would be most familiar with, in the 80s action classic, Commando, what a fucking film. I remember recording Commando on video when it was being shown on UTV, I was twelve years old. I knew my parents were never going to let me watch it, so I got up at about 7 o clock on a Saturday morning and got stuck into this absolute shoot’em up, it was one of the greatest moments of my life up to that point. This is the one character he played, the one baddie that always stuck out for me, Sully. Picture this - Airport scene, Arnie plays the character of Matrix, he has to go to some South American Country, a country that does not have a name, who cares about that, that never matters, the important bit is, Arnie has kill the president of that country or the terrorist group that Sully is apart of are going to send Arnie’s kid ‘back to him in pieces’

Sully -
“You have a nice trip, oh and here (Sully gives Arnie ten dollars), Have some beers in Val Verde, It'll give everyone more time with your daughter.”

Matrix
You’re a funny guy, Sully, I like you. That’s why I’m going to kill you last

Sully
Take care now

About fifteen minutes later in the movie this is what becomes of Sully, without a doubt one of Arnie’s most memorable scenes.

Next up for Kelly, two very sinister parts altogether, the first being that horrible Dropshadow in that weird David Lynch film, Wild at Heart. I don’t know what it is with me but David Lynch film always freak me the fuck out and this one was no different.

Then onto Spike Lee’s epic, Malcolm X, he is savage as a young Malcolm’s 4th grade teacher, it’s just one small scene but very effective, he shows that sort of passive racism that was obviously embedded in people’s minds in America pre-civil rights movement.

Then Kelly joins one of our already excepted Evil Hollywood Alumni in The Crow, he plays one of Michael Winncot’s henchmen. Kelly’s character, T-Bird is one of the 4 guys that rapes and murders Brandon Lee’s bird, then kills Brandon himself. Then, of course, Brandon rises from the dead as The Crow and kicks at least fifty five colours of shit out Kelly and his 3 mates. So what does our boy Brandon do when he’s done with the lads, he heads up on the roof of some building and whales it on a Flying V guitar in the pissing rain. Legend! Brandon Lee subsequently died on set, he was shot with a real gun in scene. How rock n roll can you get – RIP Brandon.

Jesus, when I looked this guy, David Patrick Kelly up, fuck me, he has a shit load baddies to his name. I think we have a contender for class president here, folks. Does anyone remember the Bruce Willis movie a few years ago, Last Man Standing? Guess who is there with his nasty little face getting right up in Bruce’s grill; you know it, David Patrick Kelly playing the head of the Irish gang. Savage movie, that got no attention. Check it out if you never seen it.

More recently, showing plenty of age, Kelly was in the remake of The Longest Yard with Adam Sandler. The original was with Burt Reynolds back in 70s, okay movie, didn’t warrant any attention and certainly not a remake. Then they remade it starring Vinnie Jones in that awful piece of shit, Mean Machine, The Longest Yard - The Cockney Version. Then they decided one remake was not enough, they get Adam Sandler, Chris Rock, Nelly, James Cromwell from Babe, even Bert Reynolds himself and, of course, our friend, David Patrick Kelly as an evil psycho, who would of thought. Absolute Legend.

Someone has submitted a possible contender, Andy Sweeney of Scoop Foundation Fame has been the first person to offer up his services and enter up a potential baddie into the book of evil bastards of Hollywood history. But, even though I applaud Andy’s enthusiasm, I don’t believe James Hong to be as bad as people make him out to be. Do we not recall in The Golden Child, he is one of Eddie Murphy’s mates; he introduces him to that snake lady in Chinatown. Then, we have Fred Savage buying that magic statue off him in Visa Versa, the statue that turns him into his dad and his dad into him. I also cast my mind back to Wayne’s World 2 where he plays Tia Carrara’s Da who isn’t quite as cuntish as you need him to be to enter into this list.
But, Andy, you have inspired our next entry, call me racist on this one but have you ever heard of Al Leong, this dude is the evilest oriental motherfucka this side of the Pacific.

Leong started off his career as a stunt man so naturally he was constantly cast as the dudes who end up getting his asses kicked which, as we know, majority of the time is the bad guy. So for the first half of his career, he is credited as Yakuza Thug, Triad Henchman, even Asian Looking Gang Leader. Then came along Big Trouble in Little China, Leong is the axe wielding Hatchet Man causing Kurt Russell a whole lot of trouble. Speaking of which, I really need to see that movie again, it’s been about fifteen years

In Leong’s next project, he turns up for one scene in Lethal Weapon. Gary Busey (who you might think would be worthy of this list but no, Point Break rules him out), has Mel hanging from both wrists from a chain and water is pouring all over him. Enter the character of Endo, in for some electronic torture. Sadly, Mel gets the best of poor oul’Endo, but by Jaysus, I’d say Riggs was fierce wrecked after it. check it out

So by 1987, Leong has been killed by Mel Gibson and Kurt Russell, what next? Do you really want to know? Well, let’s try Bruce Willis. Yes, this has to be Leong’s most infamous role; he is one of the terrorists in Die Hard. One of the things I’ve always thought strange about that movie, the serious ethnic diversity within that group of terrorists. Where did all they meet up? Where did Hans pick up this gang of misfits? First off, you have Hans who is obviously German and I think there are a few other Germans here and there. There is the two Swedish brothers, they are obviously Swedes, hello, blonde. You have the nerdy black fella on the computers trying to open the safe, there is that standard white American dude at the front desk who sound like he’s from some hick village in north Alabama, I’m pretty positive there is a long hair Mexican bloke somewhere and to round it all off we have Al Leong, the most random of them all, from fuckin Indo, China. What the fuck is he hanging around with Hans and the lads for? But, you know what, Leong has one of the funniest bits in the whole movie – there he is, machine gun in hand, readily poised in the lobby, if anyone comes near the windows, Leong is gonna put a cap in his ass. He looks down and sees a load chocolate bars in the case below him, and he cant fucking resist, he has to take one.

The funny thing at this stage, Leong has not spoken a word in any of these movies but yet, even with out words, he still maintains that evil viciousness needed to get onto this list. After Die Hard, he would go on to get his ass kicked by Van Damme in Death Warrant, Eddie Murphy lights him up in Beverly Hills Cop 3 when he get nicked in a chop shop. He gets reunited with Kurt Russell’s boot in Escape from LA and his latest movie, I’ve never heard of it, it’s called Sledge and his characters name is Evil Doctor, that says it all. A true evil cunt.

Loving it though, Andy, good job, we need more of that from all readers of this wonderful, educational blog, a blog that will come in so handy to millions in years to come. I will have a few more tomorrow, but til then let’s get our thinking caps on. Unless I start feeling better and I go out on the rip.

The Search for the Evilest Men in Hollywood - 1

2011-06-30T08:42:00.000-07:00

Here I am, lying on my couch, dying of the worst fucking flu I’ve had in ages, . . . . . . . . . . well, not in ages, it’s not as bad as the one I had back there in November where I literally thought I had emphysema, and each and every cough felt like my chest was about cave in, where every trip to the jacks made me feel like Augustus Gloop out of Willie Wonka and every hallucination felt like something out of a Hunter S. Thompson novel. No, it would be unfair of me to compare it to that week of absolute hell, but it’s not far behind it, it's a close second. I’m trying to keep my mind off it, keep it as occupied as possible because the more I ponder the sickness, the more magnified it gets, so what do I do? I’m trying to think of actors that, by no fault of their own, are consistently playing baddies. You know the actors I’m talking about. They never play good guys, only bad guys.

Now, I’m not talking about the likes of Anthony Hopkins, yes, I know he has some of the greatest baddies in the history of film to his name, Hannibal, ‘The Cannibal’ Lector, Benicio Del Toro’s oul’fella in Wolfman, he’s played Richard Nixon, who I suppose is a villain and, of course, who can forget Fredrick Treves in the Elephant Man. There is no doubting it, he has played some absolute bastards in his time but he has also played some lovely characters, so lovely that they defiantly have to counter act the others – John Quincy Adams, C.S. Lewis, The Butler in Remains of the Day and that oul’lad in Meet Joe Black. I want some serious arseholes here.

You might be thinking of lets say, Alan Rickman, over the years, he has portrayed complete and utter cunts it has to be said. Hans Gruber in Die Hard – wanker, Sheriff of Nottingham – dickhead, The Judge in Sweeney Todd – even bigger dickhead &, of course, how can we forget his performance as Eamon De Valara.

But considering all this – Love Actually, Harry Potter Movies, Galaxy Quest and Dogma. Alan Rickman can kick ass as a good guy. I want actors who look evil, when you see them, they look dodgy as fuck. They can play nothing else.

Who I’m talking about is the likes of Christopher Lee, that calibre of actor. No matter what Christopher Lee puts his hand to, it is sinister as bejaysis. First one off the bat has to be The Wicker Man. I only saw The Wicker Man for the first time, would you believe about a month ago. I had the unfortunate luck to see the Nick Cage remake about 6 years ago and it completely put me off. But when I saw the Christopher Lee one, fuck me, he is quality in it, everyone is quality in it. That image of them doing that childish dance at the end while the wicker man is going up in smoke is freaky.

I also believe that Christopher Lee holds the record for playing the No. 1 baddie in the history of film, Dracula. He holds the record for playing Dracula the most times, I think it is 8 or something. He also has The Mummy and Frankenstein to his name.
Not to mention, his performances in the Star Wars Prequels as the Jedi Knight come Sith Lord, Count Ducu & his portrayal of the White Wizard, Saroman in the Lord of the Rings trilogy and lest we not forget, Scaramanga in The Man with the Golden Gun. He is the king of baddie, but Christopher Lee is an easy one, I want to know others.

They also don’t have to be famous actors mind you; they can be those low key actors that everyone knows, but not really. You know those character actors who always just turn up in shit, you never know their names but they are always complete cunts every time you see them. You know the guys I’m talking about. The first man on my list is this dude. The gravelly Michael Wincott

Never have I ever seen this dude play anything other than a complete sap. First film where he springs to mind would be where he appear next to Alan Rickman, in Robin Hood where he played Guy of Gisbourne, the sheriff’s brother or something, Here is what Wincott said about the roll,

‘It's always so much more interesting to play the villains and this guy is real son of a bitch.’

I also recall him in a under rated action movie starring Eddie Murphy called Metro, it was a simple action movie, okay, but I believe it was one of Eddie Murphy’s last decent live-action movie, not that that is saying a lot. Anyway, Michael Wincott, again, was a sweet ass bad guy in that, a real mad thing and here is what he said about the role,

‘The guy I'm playing in Metro thinks of himself as a responsible and nice guy, after all, he is taking care of his retarded cousin. That is what I try to keep in mind, when I'm shooting and stabbing people.’ – Brilliant

He also played the head bad guy in The Crow, which is up there as one of my favourite movies from my teenage years and, once again, Michael Wincott was the evil bastard in that movie, probably one of the best villians. It’s his distinctive raspy voice that gives him his evilness, he is fucking savage. And of course, he has a fountain of others to his name – the horrible prison guy in Count of Monty Cristo, the psycho in Along Came a Spider; he plays a human smuggler in Alien Resurrection and who can forget him as the one eyed Rochefort in The Three Musketeers. He is first on my list; this is the calibre of actor I’m talking about. Complete Bastards.

Second on my list is very unknown actor, yet, he has been in some huge movies but he never really hit the big time. The reason being, I believe, is because he can only play cunts. This man will always play villains, he just has that face. His name is Peter Greene

I’m sure, as you see this guys photo, you all immediately go – Zed. Yes, Zed from Pulp Fiction is probably his most notable role to date, the sadistic cop who forces Marcellas Wallace to go down to Brownstown while he lets his hick mate watch as that all-famous Comanche tune rings out. Probably my favourite scene in the film, I remember watching Pulp Fiction for the first time in my mate Franko’s gaf back in Rathfarnham and my jaw being on the floor and the fact that Zed is in a cop outfit throws a massive curve ball into the scene, why is he a cop?. Another question you might ask as well is, is Zed even a cop? Or is it just a costume that empowers him as he rapes his victims? Either way, Greene fucking nails that small but effective part in my favourite film of all time. One of my all time wishes is to see what those ‘hard pipe hittin niggas’ do to Zed when they get their hands on him.

Another one of my favourite films, also, stars Peter Greene and what do you know, he plays a bastard, but a slick bastard at that. In the Usual Suspects, our five leading characters head out to California to meet Stephen Baldwin’s character’s fence, Redfoot, Greene plays Redfoot. There are two scenes with Redfoot, both in same location, on this peer. First one is during the day, all nice and friendly, everyone introduces themselves, another job is offered and its all fine and dandy but the scene finishes with a sweet little exchange of words between Gabrial Byrne and Greene’s character, Redfoot, about how Byrne’s character killed one of his mates in prison which is probably one of the slickest little bits of dialogue in the whole movie.

The second scene is at night, it’s after the job and it is quite a different atmosphere. There was no cash for our main characters at the job and they want answers and it is Peter Greene’s scene. Verbally, it is him against the five lads, back and forth until Greene’s character flicks his smoke into Stephen Baldwin’s face and gets it on the money, right on his eyeball. The scene then opens up to a classic Mexican stand off between Pollock, Baldwin, Del Toro, Spacey & Gabriel Byrne against Peter Greene’s lads, who have an M-60 on the roof of their pick up truck. Redfoot, coolly walks away laughing, slick as you like. In these two scenes, Peter Greene is quality.

Peter Greene was also the main bad guy beside Jim Carey in The Mask, now; it has been over a decade since I saw The Mask but what I remember it was pretty good, entertaining crap, a bit wacky, but pretty good. That moment when Peter Greene ends up putting the mask on, I remember being savage.
He was also, if memory serves me correctly, a part of Denzel’s crew in Training Day, the crew who Denzel wants Ethan Hawke to join. Greene is the one who accidentally gets shot when they burst in on Scott Glenn. It was himself, Dr. Dre, Nick Chinlund (who I will defo be talking about next, he is another evil bastard) and some unknown dude that I don’t know or care about.
Also, Does anyone remember a cop comedy starring Martin Lawrence called Blue Streak? Greene, again, up to his old tricks again, played the main bad guy. I don’t know what it is with him, he just has an untrustworthy face, as soon as you see him, you just think to yourself – he is fucking dodgy.
Greene also appeared in Under Siege 2, a classic, where he played surprise, surprise – a terrorist. I think Stephen Segal opens a fresh can of whoop-ass on Greene towards the end.

These are the actors, I’m talking about. They need to be celebrated and the funny thing is, they are all probably bang on, the soundest chuns in the world but unfortunately for them every where they go, every place they are, they have people coming up and saying – ‘You know what, bro, you’re an absolute twat, you are.’ I am going to spend the next couple of blogs dedicating every word to these actors. Whose next? Back to my research. I'll have a few more tomorrow.

Scoop Race Night

2011-04-04T05:27:00.000-07:00

I wrote a blog only recently about the slow death of the Table Quiz and that I wanted to discuss how and why they are less and less frequent in the pubs of Dublin, the fact that well organized and well controlled quizzes are few and far between to pretty much none existence, the fact that cheating is just way too easy with the birth of the iphone. But there is an answer to this problem, there is a solution, there is the table quiz's bastard brother that can take the rains and hopefully restore a similar buzz that a table quiz used to give, that brother's name is The Race Night.

http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=210106362336950

I know where I will be this Thursday night, I will be cheering on my horse 'Tit Frig Wank' in the Scoop foundation's annual Race Night in Pygmalion. It kicks off at 8pm until late, I cannot wait, I haven't been to one of these things in years. I will be coming straight from football so I'd say I'll be defo in the running for the coveted best dressed award.

If anyone wants to sponsor a race or a horse just pop into the facebook link above and hopefully we can help fund Scoop's school building projects in India & Cambodia.
For info on the Scoop check this link - http://www.thescoopfoundation.com/projects.html

Between the Canals and a Hard Place

2011-03-24T17:16:00.000-07:00

Okay, I want to tell you a story about a film I saw just there, this film is probably, without a doubt, one of the worst piece of cinema I have ever seen in my life and that is saying a lot. This movie was so incredibly awful that I actually don't know where to start. I don't know where to go with this blog.

The film in question is Between the Canals. Now, let me give you a brief run down of the story. In the first fifteen minutes of screen time, yes, fifteen minutes of screen time, we are introduced to three of our main characters, Dots, Liam and Scratchcard . . . . Yes, Scratchcard is one of our leading characters. In this first fifteen minutes what do they do? What do they do, you ask me. They buy three cans, not each, but between them. Thats about it

Liam is supposed to be the protagonist, the guy you believe might have a shred of decency in him but we are only given this impression because the other two are such filthy scumbags. We then move onto the character of Dots, who is Liam's best mate, he is missing teeth, wears a Paddy cap, wears bling bling gold jewellery and is a reprehensible little cunt with not one redeeming quality. From the moment you meet this character, you are counting the minutes to his demise; in fact, I have never wanted a character in a film to get it so badly, it was the only reason I stayed watching. And onto the Scratchcard character, this guy is like a middle ground between the other two; he is the real fuckin idiot of the three, just a moron, pure and simple. The guy who they take the piss out of. I'm telling you right now, if I was known as the thick one in this threesome, I would be ending it all pretty shortly.

Just to give you a timeline, the film starts on the morning of Paddy's Day and ends pretty much the same time on the following day, so the film is over the course of 24 hours and I cannot tell you the amount of nothingness that happens within that time.

Now, the first fifteen minutes pass, the lads have bought cans, Dots has sold a robbed phone to a bunch kids for a fiver and he has also tazered a junkie with a cattle prod. This is where we are at and I am thinking at this stage, where the fuck is this thing going because the charisma of these actors is not exactly enough to hook me at this stage. In fact, I've never seen acting quite like it. These guys were acting like the director strolled into the nearest block of flats in town with film crew and hand picked three of the first scumbags he could find, showed them the script and asked them to do it with no rehearsal what so ever. I know Ken Loach does this the whole time but, sadly, this is not a Ken Loach movie.

Enter a little plot line, Liam, our leading man, spots this bird with a pram and runs over to her. She is the love interest. He is the kid’s father and obviously hasn't been paying them any attention to them since the kid has been born. We also find out in this conversation that Liam has come from his Uncles funeral the day previous to this scene; his uncle was a criminal and was murdered. He tells the girl to fuck off and off he goes with the lads on the piss with their three cans of Hackenberg.

Now we are about twenty minutes in and the lads arrive at this pool hall, the guy behind the counter is old and asleep, they see if they can rob him but there is nothing to rob. Dots goes in and plays a computer roulette machine and wins €80 on his first go, the guy wakes up and tells them to get out because Dots is barred for selling drugs in there the last day and he rips up Dots' winning ticket. They kick the shit out of him, then enter two known gangsters and they get into a fight with the lads, as the gangsters know the poor owner of this pool hall and want to help him. They get the better of these two gangsters and they leggit. The gangsters then head back to their superiors and the lads are now wanted lads in Dublin on Paddys Day. Oh no, boo hoo, I don't care what happens to these idiots at this point, they deserve anything they get at this stage. Now that is the height of the narrative for the whole movie.

I would like to add that it is Paddys Day and you see very little evidence that it is Paddys Day, on occasion you might see two drunk trannys with paraphernalia from Carroll's Gift Shop on walking by and I think we have a scene in a pub with two Americans but that is about it except for the fact that the words 'Paddy's Day' is in every second line of dialogue.

I'm not going to go any further with the story because number 1, I'm not the type to be ruining films, if that’s what you want to call this piece of shit and number 2, I'm just getting bored even remembering it at this stage. From there, we have a bunch of just random stuff happening for the rest of the movie, one of them gets a gun, one of them is offered a job by a gangster, one of them gets a hiding that was quite soft, if you ask me, not exactly the hiding he deserved, and then some where near the end they are delivering a load of coke to this Nigerian bisexual who is snorting the Charlie off the end of a machete. The whole thing is so morto, it's actually hilarious. In fact, it's like a spoof movie, a parody of Irish movies.

The bottom line is this film was financed by the Irish Film Board, was accepted into the Jameson Irish Film Festival and now, has a cinema release. I just don't know what to say, I really don't . . . . . I really don't. Who is running things here? I really do scratch my head when it comes to this shit. I am shocked and appalled. If anyone goes to this film and likes it, which plenty of people have, I just read a glowing review from the Irish Times just there, you people need to have a lobotomy, that is if you haven't had one already. You need to stop this ridicules sentimentality for the Irish Film Industry, we are better than this; we are so much better then this.

We Can Do It

2011-03-22T11:17:00.000-07:00

Right, Trapp has announced his 29 man squad, the squad that will be responsible for, firstly, taking the Macedonians out of the running in our group and, secondly, they will also be responsible for keeping us in with a chance of topping the group. Victory against Macedonia is essential to this campaign, just as it was with Armenia & Andorra.

If we look at the Macedonian team, we should be hockeying the fuck out of them to be honest; most of their players are playing in Eastern European Leagues with most of them coming from the Cyprus National League and Azerbaijan National League. The only danger is their Captain Fantastic, Goran Pandev, the man responsible for pulling Inter out of that hole they were in against Bayan Munich

Here is the 29 man squad -

Goalkeepers
Westwood (Coventry), Randolph (Motherwell), Forde (Millwall)

Defenders
Foley (Wolves), O'Shea (Man Utd), Clark (Aston Villa), Coleman (Everton), Dunne (Aston Villa), St Ledger (Preston), O'Dea (Ipswich), Kelly (Fulham), Kilbane (Huddersfield), Wilson (Stoke)

Midfielder
Gibson (Man Utd), Whelan (Stoke), Green (Derby County), Laurence (Portsmouth), MacCarthy (Wigan), MacGeady (Spartak), Treacy (Preston), Andrews (Blackburn), Fahey (Birmingham), Duff (Fulham)

Striker
Keane (West Ham), Walters (Stoke), Doyle (Wolves), Long (Reading), Best (Newcastle), Keogh (Bristol City)

First thing that jumps out at you is, obviously, no Given. Who do we pick in goal? Everyone in the media is saying Coventry's Kieran Westwood who already has 5 Irish caps to date but, I'm thinking, this guys is in goal for Coventry who haven't been exactly playing well this season, they are two places from relegation in the Championship. This new guy, Randolph, who has had pretty successful season at Motherwell, they are in the top half of the Scottish Premiership and he's playing every game. I say give this guy a go. So my choice for at least the Uruguay game is Bray-born goalkeeper is Darren Randolph, give him a run out.

Onto my pick for central defenders, Dunne has today and tomorrow to prove to Trapp that he's fit, he has my vote to take that first Centre Back place, if he recovers in time that is, wishful thinking, I love John O'Shea in that central role rather than on the right, we have plenty of cover of the right so I want him in the centre. There are other good options in the centre, though. Marc Wilson has been playing savage for Stoke, particularly well in that 4-0 thrashing of Newcastle at the weekend. I would worry about giving it to St Ledger as Preston are rooted to the foot of Championship, letting in 65 goals in 36 games, that is not the best by any stretch. And as for Darren O'Dea, who has been gracefully warming the Ipswich bench for the season, well, he can just ger ow of it.

We have an abundance of players that can fit into the wide defender roles. Right back, we, of course, have O'Shea, who I have already put in the centre, but we also have Foley who has been playing week in - week out for Wolves and even though they are at the foot of the Premiership, they have been playing well all season. Seamus Coleman has been playing amazingly for Everton and will have to feature in the Irish set-up regularly for the foreseeable future but I believe he belongs at Right Midfield but he is good cover. The other cover at right back is Fulham's Stephan Kelly, who I am confident enough in. We have a fountain of talent at left back, first on the team sheet has got to be Villa's left back, Ciaran Clark, he has had a great season so far scoring 3 goals this season, one of them being that whopper against Arsenal. Marc Wilson, the Stoke defender, can also cover in this position but the one thing I can’t understand is the presence of Kevin Kilbane, I know we Irish are sentimental but this is ridicules. Kilbane has played 17 of Hudderfield's 38 games this season in League One . . . League One. Where the fuck is Stephen Ward? Not only has Stephen Ward been playing left back for Wolves all season in the Premiership but he can also cover at Left Wing, Defensive Midfield & Striker. We also drastically need Greg Cunningham to find another club, pronto.

Onto midfield, Centre Midfield,

Before we weight up our options here, we need to get onto this buzz, I like to call it the Jamie O'Hara buzz - http://www.joe.ie/football/international-football/jamie-ohara-admits-hes-up-for-playing-for-ireland-009880-1

Anyway . . .

Everyone is gagging to see the competitive debut of one James MacCarthy, he played well at the weekend and I have no doubt he will start on Saturday. His partner in the centre will be the defensive Stoke midfielder, Glenn Whelan, believe it or not but Whelan is growing on me. He is playing regular football for Stoke and he is playing well, I would be confident with these two in the centre against Macedonia. But if that doesn't work out, who do we have in cover? I think Andrews got another injury so he looks like he's gonna miss out, Gibson, eeehhhh, he's got a good shot and he's playing at one of the top clubs in the world but not enough to hang your hat on. Not to get back to something I've already touched on but we have to get onto this Jamie O'Hara buzz, pronto! We cant get away from that, I don't want to be relying on the likes of Paul Green when we're coming up against Russia or Slovakia in 6 months time, there are others that we can have in there and that are playing regularly in the Premiership - Stephen Ward, Andy Reid, Stephen Reid & Rory Delap, they should all be considered.

Out wide again, we have a wealth of talent to choose from, on the right, Seamus Coleman who is probably on his way to becoming Everton's player of the season is a defo, with cover from Liam Laurence who has been solid for Portsmouth with 7 goals this season and Spartak Moscow's Aiden McGeady as well, it is safe to say we have the position of Right-Mid covered for a few years - especially when there are other players thinking of claiming - 'Jermaine Pennant, I'm looking at you.'

The Left, we have good'oul Duffer, a bit injury prone in his old age but solid as fuck, and he's been getting a few goals of late for Fulham, but when Damien is out of action, what do we do? You need not have any fear with cover from the likes of Birmingham's Keith Fahey who just won himself a Carling Cup medal and young Keith Tracey, okay, like St Ledger, he plays for Preston who are not exactly Top of the Pops at the moment but the one time Tracey put on the green shirt, he didn't look too bad, speedy, Terry Phelean style. There is also the injured Stephen Hunt who can play on both sides; we are truly blessed for wide players in this squad.

And finally, we look at our front two. Obviously, the question on everyone’s lips is do we play Keane, our fearless leader. I think for the moment, we have to play him. His influence on the team is huge and I believe, when he gets his shit together and starts banging in the goals for West Ham, we will be laughing at the idea of even considering dropping him. Partnering him, we will have Kevin Doyle beside him, who hasn't been as prolific as some of the others in the squad but deserves the place. The other options on the bench, firstly, Shane Long, he has banged in 20 goals in 40 games this season, pretty fuckin sweet, he should be next choice after Keane and Doyle. Then there is Leon Best with his 6 goals in his last 7 games, pretty deadly, and that Jonathon Walters is not looking to bad as well for Stoke. Now, let’s forget about Andy Keogh for 2 seconds and lets have a look at another player, he should be in here. Anthony Stokes at Celtic and what he has been at? Wanna know? Wanna Know? He has scored 12 goals in 23 games this season for Celtic. Now why the fuck is Bristol City boy, Andy Keogh, even being considered here over this dude, the cunt has scored 15 since 2008. Anthony Stokes all the way.

The bottom line is, after this analysis, I am pleasantly optimistic, I’m confident with this bunch of players, just a few trims here and there and we should have a tasty looking squad, a squad well capable of winning this group and certainly able to kick three colours of shite out of Macedonia on Saturday. For the Uruguay game, Trapp should start a lot of the new boys, all the covering players, Best, Long, Fahey, Wilson etc. I am hopeful; we seriously need a Champion Finals. Come on Ireland!

Best Idea Dublin Has Ever Had

2011-03-20T14:15:00.000-07:00

Something has happened in Dublin over the last 2 or 3 months, I don't know if anyone has noticed this but people who travel by bus in this city seem jollier, they seem less hostile, more friendly, more patient. You know why? I'll tell you, CIE have pulled off a piece of genius, they have finally done something that has made me want to just stroll into that office on O'Connell St and give them all a big round of applause, but I cant because that’s kind of weird. They have done something that could ease some of the tension and anguish in this city and boost morale of everyone. They are beginning to put these things on each and every bus stop in the city, you fucking legends.

Throughout my childhood on up through to my college years, waiting for buses for hours on end, not knowing when the bastards were going to come, was pretty much a daily experience for me. I cannot tell you what it was like, and I hear what you’re probably saying, 'What buses were you taking, man?' I used to get some of the worst buses on the fucking planet, for instance - to kick it off, the 16 from St. Enda's Park in Rathfarnham, this stop used to be the terminus so if there wasn't a bus there, you were waiting for ages. You never knew how long the next bus was going to be, has one just left or is there one just around the corner, it didn’t matter because the bus driver always had a five or ten minute chill out when he got there anyway. It was a nightmare and if you wanted to get the 16A, you had to trek down to St. Mary’s at the end of Nutgrove Avenue and in doing that, you might loose concentration and miss the 16 coming from behind you.

The 44A from Dundrum, for about 6 months when we were about 15, myself and my mates used to wait and wait and wait for this particular bus that went up to Enniskerry. I swear to God, this bus came about 3 times a day and there was no timetable on the bus stop but we still waited. Why? I hear you ask. Well, there was a hot bunch of birds up in Enniskerry at the time and they wanted to score us and we weren't missing out on that for the life of us, so we would wait, for sometimes, a couple of hours, I am not joking. Sometimes when we would be in town, hanging around, we'd see a 44A and we would point at it like it was the abominable snowman or something, I still do to this day.

Let's move onto the bus of many names that took me to school in Rathgar, it started as the 47, then the 47a, then it was the 15C and finally the 74A. Not that this bus was irregular, it was just unreliable. You could be standing there for a half hour and then three of the bastards would come along at the same time. Absolute bullshit!

Then finally onto my college years, I had to take this bus we used to call the 'Rags to Riches', it went from Ballsbridge to Ballyfermot, the 18, I used to jump on at Harold's Cross and this was a nightmare of the highest degree. I used to play a game with myself to help me through the waiting, if I sparked up a smoke, by the end of it, the bus would appear around the corner, if I was playing a tune on my ‘mini-disc player’, by the end of the tune, I would be stepping onto the bus and when the bus didn't arrive, I would be genuinely fuming. I would be in a fowler going into college.

I remember standing at all these bus stops over the years, coming up with inventions in my head, inventions where you would know exactly where the nearest bus was and when it was going to arrive. There is something about knowing when it is coming, even if it is twenty minutes, at least you know, you can go get a coffee and you don’t have to stand there like tit just waiting. Then the Luas came along and they had them installed at every station. Savage! Bus stops had to be next.

One thing I can’t understand is, how are they are affording all this? It just goes to show that the oul public transport department of Ireland are not so short of cashola, even in these times of, dare I say it, resession. Imagine how much it would costs to put one of those things up on each bus stop in Dublin. That’s a good question actually, How many bus stops are there in Dublin? And how much does one of those things cost.

But listen to this, my mate, Jordi and myself were discussing these new phenomenons, we were, through conversation, celebrating their brilliance when Jordi dropped this bombshell on me. There is this . . . . department, I don't know, in charge of Irish culture, the Irish language or something. I'm going to have to research this more. But, supposedly, they are making CIE take all the ones that are up, down again because the destinations are in English, . . . . . get the fuck out of it. If this is the case, CIE should just tell them to piss off; this is more money, more of the same bureaucratic bullshit that has been wasting the money of this country to date.

Here is the link, thanks Jordi - http://www.herald.ie/national-news/city-news/gaeilgeoir-protests-delay-new-bus-signs-2578542.html

Anyway, I want to finish this blog on a positive note. The whole idea is brilliant and as a person who takes the bus all the time, I salute you, genius, absolute genius. My life has been made so much easier. I can’t wait until they all have them.

Soundtrack Recommendation

2011-03-12T03:46:00.000-08:00

Not only is this a soundtrack recommendation but, if you haven't seen the film, it is also a film recommendation. The Thin Red Line is without a shadow of a doubt the best war movie of all time, nipping Apocolypse Now at the post. One of the reasons I have given it this title is the amazing soundtrack, a soundtrack that I downloaded the fuck out of this morning. Here is a sample - It is absolutely deadly

The Summer is Nigh

2011-03-11T05:13:00.000-08:00

You know the summer is coming when you hear the Electric Picnic line-up being announced, the summer is on its way and I cannot wait. Even when I look out my balcony window now, it is pissing from the heavens, I haven't seen rain quite like it in 2011 as of yet. It is what my grandfather would of called 'very wet rain'.

'Jaysus, that’s shockin wet rain, that is. I'm tellin ye, you'd get awful wet in that.'

But my point is, rain or no fucking rain, the summer is coming, and it will be here before we know it. It will be savage.

The 2 moments, I believe, that are synonymous with the coming of the summer are, they're not the tweeting of the birds or the warm breeze in your face. They are the Paddy's Day session in the Bernard Shaw and the announcement of the Electric Picnic line-up. Do you think they come within a week of each other for the good of their health, bollix, they kick it off like a motherfucker, they get everybody pepped for the next 6 months unadulterated fun. Let's go!

Electric Picnic 2011 from Electric Picnic on Vimeo.

I have to say the line-up for this year's Picnic has not captured my imagination. If I'm gonna be honest, it hasn't for the last few years, okay, Leftfield was ridicules last year but since 2007, the Picnic line-up hasn't been blowing me away, but who gives a bollix, when it comes down to it, it's very rarely about the line-up but were gonna talk about it anyway

Let’s look at the line-up

The main headliners -

Arcade Fire - the more commercial act of the lot, they won a shit load of awards and had a massive album, lots of cullchies will love this addition to the line-up. I think the last time they were at the Picnic it was the second one, back in 2005 and they were . . . . . . . pleasant.

Pulp - The usual nostalgic act that always finds itself on the Picnic line-up, I love Pulp and I cannot wait to see this show. It will be like going to see the Pet Shop Boys a few years ago, everyone knows the tunes, everyone singing the tunes, it will be a buzz.

The Chemical Brothers - I don't know what it is about the Chemical Brothers but even though they have only played the Picnic the once, it seems like they play it every year, if that makes sense. They will be good, they always are.

Interpol - Never really gave this band a chance and I probably never will, I couldn't give a bollix about them.

PJ Harvey - Okay, if I told you that there was a chance of me checking out PJ Harvey whenever she is on on the weekend, I would probably be lying to you. Not an act to be sticking in the headliners list.

Beirut - Again, this is an act, I have yet to consider, I haven't given them the time of day, but if someone was going to them over the weekend, I’d probably join them. I hope to get to know more over the coming months.

Other big acts -

DJ Shadow - Sometimes I feel Hip-Hop finds it hard to fit in or have an impact at a festival. Saying that J-5 were unreal at the first Picnic - Bring Back J-5 - but I went to see DJ Shadow twice over my years at the Picnic and both times, I felt bored shitless to be perfectly honest. I probably won't be attending this on the weekend.

The Charlatans - This band, and I know a lot of people disagree with me, I think are sweet, they have a fuck load of tunes I love, I've never seen them before and a bit of Brit Pop at a festival never hurt anyone. Pulp aren't enough. I will be here 100%

Sinead O'Connor - If I'm not mistaken, she is like Mundy, she plays pretty much every year and I always miss the baldy bitch. I always threaten to check her out, just out of curiosity but I never get around to it. I'm probably too busy getting cosmic at the Bacardi Bar. Will probably miss it again this year for similar reasons but if I so happened to be walking by, I might pop in.

Death in Vagas - I love this act and I've never got the chance to see them, I have been listening to The Contino Sessions & Scorpio Rising for years and I can’t wait to check them out live. I hope they are on early in the day but either way I'll be giving them a gander

Boyz Noize - Depends how I’m feeling, it's been a while. Last time I saw Boyz Noize was at the 2007 Trinity Ball and to say we were reaching for the lasers would be an understatement, good buzz, if I haven't worn myself to a thread by the time they are on.

Paul Kalkbrenner - The highlight of the weekend for me, I cannot wait to see this cunt. He is fucking savage, I got into him after seeing a film that he wrote, directed, scored and stared in, called Berlin Calling. He is the one I reckon going to be the talk of the festival. I will not be missing this for the life of me. Check out this scene from a festival in the movie.

Trentemoller - My mate, Aaron's choice of the line-up, I know his stuff and will be defo checking it out

Adam Beyer - Depends on my mood, if he is on on the Sunday Night, you can forget it.

Dave Clacke - The same as Beyer, it all depends on what night he is on. I'm very fragile on the last night.

Gavin Friday - 6 months ago, I would of rather stick pins in my eyes but I saw a very good documentary about Bono's best mate, Gavin Friday, and his band sounded a bit interesting, The Virgin Prunes. Like Sinead, only if I'm walking by

If you ask me, I think a few more big acts need to be added over the next couple of months, not massive acts but if they want people to buy tickets worth 250 yoyos, well, you got to entice them more. At the end of the day, I couldn't give a toss about the line-up; I very rarely see any of the acts anyway. I spent most of my weekend last year in the Movember Tent, listening to the likes of Russell and Aido and Chewy so not to worry Electric Picnic, I don't mind. What it has done is excite the balls off me. I can’t wait for the fucking Picnic! I can’t wait for the fucking summer!

NY77 - The Coolest Year in Hell

2011-03-11T01:18:00.000-08:00

I caught this documentary a while ago on VH1 and thought it was fucking savage but could never find it again on the internet . . . . until now. I headed onto the This Greedy Pig web-site (http://www.thisgreedypig.com), onto their blog page and low and behold there it was, there it was staring me in the face. Check this bad boi out because, for the next hour and a half I am gonna let 1977 New York wash over me. Thanks Lads - here is the link

http://www.thisgreedypig.com/ny77-the-coolest-year-in-hell/

Recommended Tune - Lindstrom

2011-03-10T08:44:00.000-08:00

Last weekend was my mate, Aaron's Birthday, we started things in a very civilized manner, with a nice meal in Green Nineteen, tasty food, good service and very affordable. We did the cake thing, brought the bike out, we bought it for Aaron a few days earlier, everyone was having a fine celebration.

Then onto Sean MacD's in Harold's Cross for plenty of fun and frollix, where Greg and Aaron are running their night, Native Tongues. No mad clubbing, just a pub with good tunes and a decent smoking section. Anyway, about halfway through the night, there is Rubio, giving everything he's got on the decks and he plays this tune. I know it as well as can be, I've heard it being played a million times, it's just I've never known the name of it. 'I fucking love this track.' I said to myself, and with that my attention was dragged else where so I never got to ask Rubio what the name of it was.

About 5 hours later, we are all squeezed into Aaron & Rubio's cottage, I'm swaying left and right at this stage, there is Conor Dunne giving it as much of his all as Rubio was back in the place and what do you know, on comes this tune again. 'Fuckin Hell, that tune is savage.' I thought. I gander over and there is Damo, dancing with a look of sheer passion on his face to the tune. I look over, I clock his eye -

'What a fucking tune, bro!' I say

And he replies 'Fucking savage, man, spacey as fuck'

'Yeah, a real fuckin Blade Runner quality about it.' I say

And on we go about how deadly the tune is. I get the name of the track off Damo and by the time, I finish up at the session, back in mine, then bed, up the next day, I completely forget it. There I am texting Damo, Rubio and Conor Dunne like a mad yoke the next day, trying to get the name of this fucking track again. Damo is the first to get back to me and he has no recollection of even having a conversation with me at the party, Rubio sends me the names of 3 tunes that could not of been further from the tune and third time lucky, Conor Dunne texts - 'I think ur talkin about Lindstrom - I Feel Space' and he was right - Get this beast into you!

Movie Recommandation - Vicki Christina Barca

2011-03-10T08:30:00.001-08:00

I have recently had the pleasure of experiencing Sky Movies for the last 2 weeks and, okay, 30 squid a month is a little affluant for my current income but let me tell you, it is worth it, it is amazing. I woke up the other night at about 4am, couldn't get back to sleep, I was pacing the gaf, on my second cup of tea, I knew I wasn't getting back to sleep, simple as that. I flicked the TV on, expecting the only thing on to be the Sky Sports News carosel but no, I forgot . . . . . . . for a few minutes I had completely forgotten about the Sky Movies, get the fuck in there, you little beauty. Firstly, I thought to myself, 'Ye know what, they will be showing nothing but bollix on at this time.' Oh my God, was I wrong. I watched Vicki Christina Barcalona, I thought it was fucking savage and I thought to myself, what a great way to start a day. So if anyone is looking for solid movie to watch over the coming weekend, checkout Woody Allen's best movie he has done in years - Vicki Christina Barcalona - PS For the rest of the day, I was fucking knackered.

Tune Recommendation - Number 1

2011-03-07T06:42:00.000-08:00

Andy Durkan played this track for me there a few months ago, it was the wee hours of the morning, everyone needed a whopper tune that was going to lift the spirits of the party, to say the least, it worked. I thought it was kick ass, Check it out

Recommended Movie - Number 1

2011-03-07T05:57:00.000-08:00

If you are looking for a sweet ass movie at any stage this week, check this out. Sean Penn's last movie, Into The Wild.

Video Project

2011-03-07T05:35:00.000-08:00

Today, myself and my bro, Max, start our long talked about video project that is going to talk our lifetime to complete, we are finally getting the finger out and actually starting it. It is going to take a full life time to do, but I reckon it will be worth it, even if we don't get to see the finished product ourselves.

This also means that some of the people that I know and respect will not get to see it either. In fact, now that I think about it, the only people that are really going to give a bollix about it, is some wanky generation that is yet to be born. I will be there, on my death bed, dying of some horrible incurable disease that has yet to come along and it is really, really painful, some arty little shit will be in my face telling me how deadly the idea is. I will be unable to talk because this disease will probably effect the mouth, but I will be thinking very cynical thoughts at that moment.

Lets Go! Hope the little shit is out of bed

Oscar This

2011-03-02T12:23:00.000-08:00

After a nice weekends sessioning that began with the Man Utd - Wigan game on Saturday afternoon in Coffeys gaf, myself and Shocko found ourselves 2 pubs and 3 gaffs later on my couch, surrounded by passed out mates and we were engaging in some seriously in-depth chatter about this year's films. There we were, feet up, chilling, after spending 45 euro on nine Cobra beers from that Indian in Portobello, awaiting the announcement of this years academy awards.

I didn't want this year to be the same as every other year, me sitting there, awake, scanning the internet for the Oscars live and failing miserably. I don't know, why is it I get so frantic about watching them, I have to see them and I have to see them live. I hate those edited hour long versions on RTE the next night, they always get someone who has had a lobotomy to edit the thing. The funny thing is on the rare occasion where I actually get to watch them live; I do nothing but roar obscenities at the TV or bitch to whoever it is I'm with, about how shallow and crass the whole fuckin thing is. I can’t explain it, I just want it, I don't want to miss it, I can’t do with out it. So what did I do, I ring up Sky

'Hello, Sky.'

'Eh, Hi . . . how much is it to get the movies.

'It is thirty one euro a month.'

' . . . . . . . . Do I have to take them for the whole month?'

'Minimum a month, sir.'

'Okay, fuck it, give them to me.'

31 euro, . . . . . am I insane? . . . . Ah, to hell with it, I'll have the movies for a month aswell as the Oscars, so not all bad. I’ll finally get to see the Human Centipede after all.

As always I tried to see as many of the films nominated as I possible before the faithful night and I didn't do too badly this year, everything bar True Grit & The Fighter. This year, the awards themselves looked to be bit obvious, very little surprises, Best Film & Best Director between Social Network & The Kings Speech, with the latter being the favourite and would end up taking it, weird because my money was on The Social Network.

First off, Tom Hooper has very little to his name if you ask me, The Damned United, one of the Prime Suspects and Eastenders and that’s about it. Not much to warrant a best director award, even if the Kings Speech is a quality movie. Remember this is the award that Kubrick, Hitchcock, Altman or Sergio never got, a disgrace. I believe the Best Director award is the only award that is given in the ceremony that past work kind of comes into play. It cant be flukey first movie, if it is to be your first movie, it better be pretty fuckin savage, and the Kings Speech certainly wasn’t that.

This brings me onto my second point, The Kings Speech is a quality movie, it is solid as a motherfucker, you can’t fault it. It's just a bit nice, but nice is good. It is also very lovely, but lovely is also good. It just didn't blow my bollix off if you know what I mean, but I do remember leaving the cinema with a spring in my step, thinking to myself - 'Yeah, that was worth the fiver (I know, a fiver, I love being a student). The film didn't give me that Best Film, Oscar buzz, the only Oscar buzz I got off it was Colin Firth which was a given, seeing that he gave the performance of his life in 'A Single Man' last year and missed to Jeff Bridges in, what I thought was an average performance in an average movie.

Another thing about The Kings Speech that made me doubt it, was that it wasn't The Social Network. To me, The Social Network had Oscar written all over it, it was the film of the year. Firstly, Fincher, it was to be Dave Fincher's time. Seven, The Game, Fight Club, Zodiac (I'm not going mention Benjamin Button, even though it's the only one he's been nominated for, coz I just thought it was muck) so that, if you look at it, is some back log of movies, and I'm afraid something tells me that Captain Nemo isn't gonna earn him another nod so this is gonna be the only nomination for a while.

Something else that had me waving The Social Network flag was the importance of the movie, the importance of Facebook in today’s society. Facebook, only over the last few weeks, had been the centre of communication for 3 Revolutions in Africa for fuck sake. Its existence has changed the world for the better and no one can deny that and something was telling me the Academy was going to give it some notoriety.

Also I believe the film was a better movie, and believe it or not, I couldn't stand it when I saw it first. It took the second viewing to realize, 'Holy Shit, this is a quality fucking movie.' The reason I hated the movie to begin with was the same reason I hated There Will Be Blood to begin with, I simply despised every character in the film. When I see a film for the first time, there is something in me, I don't know why, I have to, kind of, like the protagonist. Even if it is Patrick Bateman in American Psycho, for some reason, I kind of like him . . . . . . . . . eh, I think like is the wrong word . . . but you know what I mean. Just like Daniel in There Will Be Blood, I hated Mark Zukerberg, I hated Justin Timberlake and I fucking hated those twins. After the film, I didn't give a fuck about any of them, they were all so rich, they were all so talented, it angered me, I left fuming. For the next week, I'm waxing lyrical to everyone how I didn't like the movie and every where I turned, I was told to shut the fuck up and watch it again. I did, and guess what, I really liked it, in fact, I've watched it several times since including just before writing this blog and I love it. It is a quality ass movie and I was very disappointed it didn't take the the Oscars home in the end.

On the upside, as a massive West Wing fan, it was great to see Aaron Sorkin take the Screenplay award home, although I think he had that in the bag as Paddy Power had him at 1/20. Another award going to The Social Network was to the lead singer of a childhood band of mine, Nine Inch Nail's Trent Reznor for Original Score which a quality series of music, I downloaded the fuck out of it last week and it is kick ass.

Anyway, myself and Seamas skulled our extremely over-priced Cobra's, there was a hint of morning light through the window and as the ceremony came to a close so were our eye-lids, a fine way to end a 2 day bender if you ask me.

21 days in

2011-01-21T04:31:00.000-08:00

Okay 21 days in is a bit of a lie, but since New Years I have only smoked and drank on one occasion. I was very proud of the fact that I lasted 14 days, 2 weeks with out touching a drop or sparking up . . . . . or even getting one into me. Then, of course, Kate Brennan's birthday slash going away party comes along, this was going to be impossible to get through.

I said to myself, Fuck it, I would reward myself for being so good up to now, 14 days, I was very impressed with myself, it is funny that even in my thirtieth year I still manage to impress myself. How would I reward myself? I would go on the fucking rip. But this was all on one condition, that I jumped back on the wagon as soon as Sunday hit. Kate's party was on the Friday so I waited until that clock hit twelve midnight, it was Saturday, officially, lets get stuck into it for the next day. 24 hours, 80 smokes, 30 beers, 8 little fellas, a 2CB and a bag of weed later I pass out in my own bed, in my own place would you believe. That was the fucking craic!

Me in the middle of having craic - 15th Jan '11

I wake up back on the wagon again. I go another week and here I am, at the forefoot of another weekend. I really don't want to do anything mad because I'm going to London next week and I will certainly be drinking there.

'Then just don't drink or smoke or give it the big boy shit this weekend' I hear you saying

Easier said than done, it's my mate Paddy Canada's going away thing in the Sugar Club on Saturday night, we're all checking out Ali Shaheed Muhammad from A Tribe Called Quest and I have no doubt in my mind that by the end of Saturday, we will be throwing our hands up in the air and wavin them around like we just don't care. First weekend in February doesn't have anything . . . i think . . . does it?

I hope I can hold it together - wish me luck!

Documentary of the Year

2011-01-10T05:35:00.000-08:00

As we enter into award season, I love checking out some of the potential nominees. I always start on the Best Documentary catagory, what docs are more than likely going to be in the short list for accolades over the coming months, the first I checked out has blown my mind. It's the documentary directed by Banksy, 'Exit Through The Gift Shop', fucking quality. You enter into it expecting a simple doc which explains and delves into the rise of Street Art but the film takes a completely turn. Just check it out - here is the link to check the whole film and a trailer to get you aroused.

http://watch-movies.ro/movie/exit_through_the_gift_shop_(2010)

I Have To Hit The Showers

2010-11-21T15:25:00.000-08:00

I really don't want to get talking about this with anyone, but I have to, it is irritating me so much to even think about it, but I have to get it off my chest. I feel a painful strain on my shins and my back as I'm writing this but what the fuck else can I blog about after tonight. It is a series of things really.

I need to get the fuck out of dodge as soon as I finish this course, that's if this course isn't on the chopping block on the December 4th. I need to get out of this shit hole for a while, I'm getting cabin fever. As the weeks go by I feel less and less association with this country and the cunts that are within it. Everything about the place just annoys me and I feel like I'm on a completely different page than the whole lot of it. The place is just boring the fucking arse off me. There is nothing exciting going on here and it's only going to get worse over the coming 4 years. I bored, I'm bored, I'm bored, and trust me, I've tried to entertain myself.

It's not just all the political fuck up's. To be perfectly honest, I don't care about it that much anymore. I knew they we crooked cunts years ago and I'm not surprised they fucked all that shit up. It was going to happen to the greedy pricks at some stage, it was only a matter of time. You knew just on the look of them, the physical look of them that they were dodgy. Did the people of Ireland not realize all this after 'shirt-gate' with Charlie? All these guys were young fella's in the party when all that shit was going on. By the look of them, I knew it; they looked like baddies and I felt that every time we voted them in. They looked like the type of dodgy idiots that were capable of all this. They looked like the cast of Dick Tracey for fuck sake.

Whose Who?

I don't get the whole attitude in the country, Dublin especially. I just watched an episode of Prime Time, getting the news that the country is going down the swany and after the show, being advertised, watch Fade Street, next Thursday. Are you serious, The Irish Hills, are you for real. I can’t wait, I truly cannot wait to see how those upper-middle class idiots get on in their fake MCD internships, I really cannot wait. Will they be late again, I wonder? How will that one with the black hair get over the fact she is going blow one of those Peter Mark hairdoed band members. 'You've got to pump it up. You have to pump it up', she certainly is. For real, are you messing with me or shall I stab myself in the eyes with my own knob now or later. And you know what, lads, Irish Television, it's only gonna get worse. You think that Irish Television is bad now, wait until the next budget. RTE see you later - you’re gone.

The Arts as well, you thought it was hard to get arts council funding for your theatre company in this country last year, well, you ain't seen nothing yet. You must be fucking joking. There was really good campaign in motion there for a few minutes, to help promote the importance of the arts in every aspect of society. That is pretty much nil-in-void now if you ask me and it is back to the drawing board. I suppose the Abbey Theatre will actually have to stick to their brief now. They will have to actually use Irish actors & directors in the national theatre, we won’t have the cash for the likes of Alan Rickman and Co. for the next 4 years, they'll all have to head to the Gate next year.

I saw a great interview there with author & historian, Tim Pat Coogan, and it really hit home how morto this whole thing is. We are a young country, an extremely young fucking country. The Republic was proclaimed less than a hundred years ago, The free state, where we started actually making important decisions about the running of the country began in 1922, under ninety years ago and the republic itself, only officially came into recognition in 1937 so we have, as a Republic, only been going for just over 70 years. Less than the average life time expectancy for people in this country. What a banana republic we have created in such a short space of time.

I often wonder what motivates people like revolutionaries and historical figures in their own time, to lay down your life like that, to make the ultimate sacrifice. Did they really mean all of it or was it just the cool thing to do back then. They didn't have tabloids or fashion industries or TV3 or any of that shit back then to tell them what to do, so, maybe, dying for your country was the going on 'X-Factor' of their time. Was Wolfe Tone the Mary Byrne of 1798? Was Robert Emmet's public execution the equivalent to Westlife turning on the Christmas lights in 1803? And were the Pearce Brothers, the Jedward of 1916? Who knows? To fight in open war on your doorstep, it seems . . . . harder, less craic. Thank god, I don't have to do that. Does anyone want a dab?

When I look around today, I don't see how we are even remotely related to these men and women. Any nationalism or republicanism I see these days is so forced and fake and ignorant, i.e. that idiot wearing a Celtic jersey, brandishing a sign stating 'No Foreign Games' outside Corker that time. I see people who go on about it all the time as complete charlatans and I see through their visad. I would actually put myself and my peers into the shoes of these historical heroes and truly ask myself and my fellow Irishmen the questions. Would we do that? Would we have the passion? Would we have the patriotism? Would we have the balls to do anything even remotely like that? or would we just rather get stoned and watch Fade Street again. Would we just simply say, 'Ah fuck this, I'm off to Copper's to get hammered and wear some nurse home as a hat.' I am truly terrified of the answers I may hear, I really am.

Getting back to my initial point. I need to get out of here for a while; I've been here for too long. I go to Berlin & London and I feel like I'm in an actual city. That there is a real buzz there, people are not naf. I talk to people I know in these cities and they are loving it. They feel like there is something going on there, there is a completely different buzz in the places. They don't miss Dublin that is for sure. The more I think about it, the naffer Dublin seems

My eye is on New York, I'm gonna jump on that year visa you can get from USIT and see you later, I’m off. My mate, Russell, just got back there. He said it took him a few weeks to get into it and as soon as he felt like he was settling, he had to come home sadly. It just seems like a completely different world to this. I'm gonna finish this course and I'm off. January 2012, I reckon. I'm gone

One last message to anyone political out there, who I would say are reading this in their droves, are you listening - get your fucking shit together and stop being so fucking conservative, open your mind to new ideas that might save us, you are all so fucking scared to try anything different that might help the economy - here are a few ideas that might actually help morale & the economy - just consider these, talk about them, see what they might do for the economy - Extend Pub Licensing - Extend Off Licence Hours - Legalise Weed, seriously consider it - and please cut that 'Cheque Cashing' payment from the Public Sector before I go on a killing spree up there.

To end on a positive note, that Irish performance against the All Blacks on Saturday was the first feeling of Irish pride I've had in ages - Fair fucks to you, lads

That's it I'm going to bed - I'm tired and so is he, below

I'm Not A Celebrity, Giv Me Some Mo

2010-11-19T13:14:00.000-08:00

Okay, it has taken a week in bed with the worst man flu ever and watching the first week of 'I'm A Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here' to get stuck into another blog, my first blog in the month of November. . . . and October. I have realized that this show is one of the greatest shows since 'The Grand Knockout Tournament' when comes to fucking up real celebrities.

Some how a group of producers have gotten a handful of quite well known celebrities this year, I will never know how. I know normally they are a group of nobodies and has-beens that I never know or never have much interest in but, this year, we have Linford Christie, Shaun Ryder, that politician, Lemptit, who rode a Cheeky Girl, that goofy bird from X Factor, Dom Joly and they just brought on that fat bird from Big Brother. You know, real celebrities. But the one who is standing out for me is that oul'one who sniffs through peoples shit for fibre on that sort of weight watchers show, Gillian whatser name.

Gillian is this frail, little vegan that keeps on getting picked for each task which, of course, involves eating all sorts of mad shit, swimming with baby crocodiles and eels & being bearded alive. This woman is about to have a nervous breakdown, it is amazing television. She has fainted twice, each time better than the last and I can’t wait for the next one. She keeps asking, 'Why do the public keep putting me up?' and I’m happy to give her an answer to that question.

You're being a cunt. Stop being a cunt and you'll see, the public will feel sympathy for you. You wont have to crawl through that pitch-dark tunnel of tarantulas, a task that can only end with you pissing yourself for my amusement. Trust me, they will give a tsk to Linford, he is starting act like a complete cunt so there is your way out. You don't have to even stop being a cunt, just stop talking and Linford will do the work for you.

How much are they paying these people? It must be a healthy amount because you would have to pay me a fortune to do any of that shit and then to put it on TV, fuck that. These people are elected politicians, professional comedians, live-broadcasters, decorated athletes, and music legends, you would think they would know better than a podgy twat from Dublin like me, who doesn't know his arse hole from his ear hole when it comes to making the right decision. They must be getting paid a fuck load.

The whole philosophy behind the show is amazing, it's phenomenal. We are no longer as a society putting celebrities on pedestals and looking up to them. We have turned them into clowns, dance, dance, dance, pig, dance. I used to always think this show was another self-indulgent show about celebrities, another wanky celebration of people who are famous, and how annoying they were. But no, this is different, this is amazing, this should be studied. This should be celebrated, I am so hooked, it unreal. Maybe it might have something to do with my man flu or the high doses of antibiotics & steroids I've been on for the last week but I'm going to watch this show every year now for the rest of time. 'Until the day comes where they have laid out in Marge's funeral home, and truck me off to Mount Almond.'

Russell

2010-10-02T04:04:00.000-07:00

I haven't written a blog in exactly a month now, a month, a month to the day. I don't know, it was probably a combination of a few things, not having enough time, sheer laziness and a down right lack of inspiration. Inspiration is everything when it comes to writing these things, you need to really be into whatever you are talking about and I just haven't had anything to talk about over the month of September, it has been pretty uneventful, well, in blog terms . . . . until now. Today is the 29th birthday . . .Well, I think he is 29 . . or is it 28 . . its either 28th or 29th, either way, that’s not what is important. Today is the birthday of our brother abroad - The one, the only, Russell Simmons. No wait he's not the only is he.

Russell was either born on the 1st October 1981 or 1982, I don't know. If it was 1981, while Russell’s Ma was screaming her head off in the Rotunda, Adam & the Ants were top of the charts with Stand and Deliver . . . . . . Jesus, I've been reading up on October the 1st in 1981 and absolutely fuck all happened on this day, lets hope Russell was born in 1982, I think it's more interesting. . . . . okay, lets go. On the muggy morning of the 1st of October 1982, while Eye Of The Tiger was enjoying its 3rd week at number one, while Liverpool were ripping other teams a new arsehole in football, while some kid in Japan bought the very first CD in a shop, while Grafton Street was preparing to become a pedestrian only street for the first time, another thing was happening, up in the Rotunda Hospital, Mrs. Simmons was trying with all her might to add her contribution to the world. To grace the world with her eldest son - Russell

My story with Russell begins in 1997, I was making my move from De La Salle to the High School, I think Russell was making a similar move; we were both new kids in this new palace of tits and arse, it was great. Myself and Russell became aware of each other as permanent fixtures on the High School rugby team’s bench. I was there because I was just plain shite but poor Russell spent most of his rugby life rooted to the bench because he was a hooker, he lived in the shadow of captain fantastic, Ross MacNally, but he finally got his time in sixth year, High Schools finest hour, knocking Roscrea out the Cup, Russell was throwing like the Holy Spirit that day, what a fucking game, what a tush . . . . Pity they got the shit kicked out of themselves in the next round by Rock, but no one remembers that.

As a rugby player, Russell never conformed to the typical rugby - jock behaviour. Instead of giving or receiving nipple cripples and pulling a mates boxers over their head, he decided no, he decided to hang with a different type of group in the school, a group so unique that I don't think their like will be seen in that school again. This group had many names, The Wasters, The Messers, The Scumbags, yes, I'm talking about the gang of lads that terrorised the A Floor jacks between 1997 and 2000. Never had the school seen a group of lads who had such a lack of school spirit, Russell's rugby effort was the only sign of 'High School Pride' within this group. They had mastered the art of the pea shooter; ripping unfortunate teachers as they passed.

At this stage I knew Russell’s mate, JJ, a lot better, as he was in my class. I got talking to JJ and he was telling me all about his escapades in the Tivoli and that he and Russell were djing there. This was in fucking 6th year, djing to me at this stage was like what some dude did at a wedding. At this stage, for me going out and clubbing was the 'pound a pint' night in Bar 47 or maybe rocking up to The Vatican on a Saturday Night. So a couple of us heard about this and we're like 'what the fuck is that all this about?' We head up to the Tivoli and there is JJ & Russell up there, giving it the fucking big boy shit, lashing out this nasty techno to a load of cunts in their late twenties, all of which were madge out of it. It was all a bit much, these 2 chuns were studying for their Leaving, and there they were bangin it out to a load of mashed out of heads about ten years their senior. Get the fuck in there, lads, i thought.

There is a bit of a gap then in me and Russells connection, we might of seen each other occasionally at a 21sts, just hangin out with different cunts and then literally about six years ago it began every weekend, we were getting along grand, we were building a wholesome bond, sometimes physical but mostly verbal, mentally having sex every weekend with each other and then off he went to Australia for a year . . . . . that’s that, I thought to myself, he's gone, he's left me. He never thought to let me know, it was just 'I'm heading to Oz, dude' . . . . Just like that. Gone. Off to have the crack with a load of other chuns without me. Off to have a laugh with a bunch of people I didn't even know and will never know. Myself and Greg didn't know where to turn. This began one of man's greatest projects - Project Russell - bravo, lads! Bravo!

Forward on to St Stephens Day a year later, Me and Greg loosing our bollix at Leopardstown Racecourse, freezing our balls off in the stand, surrounded by twats with binoculars hanging from their necks in suits and we are sipping pints that took us an hour to get. We are in dire need of a surprise, we needed something that was going to boost moral - my phone rings

'Hello'

'Hay Jack, what’s the crack? Do you know who this is? I am looking at you right now.'

'What' I thought to myself 'Who the fuck is this?'

'It's Russell, man, I came home yesterday'

And with that Russell appears beside us. Hugs and kisses all round, well, not kisses, even though I wanted to but I didn't want to push it, he had just got back. That night, we hit town and to say we threw our hands up in the air and shook them around like we just didn’t care, would have been a very big understatement and we pretty much did that every weekend since. Russell has gone into the Jack Olohan Hall of Fame of Sessioners; he has out done himself when it comes to having the craic over the last 3 years. He has consistently shown 100% commitment to the sesh and I believe he needs to be applauded for it. Congrates, bro, you deserves it. He has now left us again to go the Big Apple and to say he is sorely missed by one and all back here in Ireland would be an even bigger understatement, way bigger than the understatement I mentioned earlier in this paragraph. Happy Birthday, dude, go out there a tear that town a new one, you lucky bastard. I wish I was there.

My 2 Entries - Come on the Picnic

2010-09-01T01:29:00.000-07:00

I entered a competition to win 2 Electric Picnic tickets from Heineken, I had to write about if I had a choice to bring 3 famous people to the Picnic who would it be. here are my 2 entries - fingers crossed -

What is this with people picking famous people like Jim Morrison & Hunter S Thompson, I couldn't think of anyone more intense and annoying to go to a festival with. Yes, they go down in history as being two of the most out there, mad yolks the world has ever seen but I go to a festival to chill out, not to be freaked out. If you were staying with the 2 of them, Jim would spend most of his time pontificating about how beautiful the world is, while in one hand he would have a bottle of Jack and with the other he would be feeling up your girlfriend. And as for Hunter, you would be waking up in the middle of the night with him on top of you, sticking a gun in your mouth, asking you why you are here. No, my people will be some of the most easy going famous people. Not messy or outspoken or portentous, just sound out of it. Someone who me and my mates can actually buzz off. Persons who will be able to keep up for the weekend, keep going till the bitter end. Number 1 - Billy Bragg - Probably the soundest man I have never met. You can just tell by Billy, he is bang on; there is no two ways about it. He would not be full of himself in any way; he wouldn't be constantly talking about himself. He can talk music, he can talk film, he can talk football. Just very pleasant company, outrageously so! Number 2 - John Peel - Now if you want to have another person who can give you good, funny conversation about music and football and, in turn, keep a chilled out atmosphere, John Peel is your man. He can hold his own at any drink session as can Billy, and again, not portentous, just sound out of it. The two of them are gas as well, they would be cracking you up. Number 3 is person who would fit right in there with Billy & John & Myself - Noel Gallagher - I don't know if anyone has seen interviews with Noel Gallagher but now that Oasis are finished, he should definitely pick up a career in stand up. He is hilarious. He'd be the craic, he would be sessioning until the bitter end, until we haven’t an ounce of energy left and you'd be busting your hole laughing for pretty much the whole time. Jim Morrison & Hunter S Thompson! Are you for real? What a nightmare? Try a little taste of Billy Bragg, the late John Peel & Noel Gallagher - I can just see the 4 of us chilling out inside in the Body & Soul Area, sipping on a beer with not a care in the world, talking about how amazing Leftfield were last night - Leccy Piccy 2010, lets be having you

Entry Number 2 -

I have finally arrived at the Picnic; I can’t believe it, where has the summer gone. I've taken it way too handy, this is my first festival of the year so I'm pretty much gonna make up for all that lost time. I’m gonna have a level of crack that I can’t even comprehend myself - who will come with me on this monstrous journey of palpitating enjoyments? The four man tent is up and ready for myself and my 3 famous reveller mates, I've made it the comfiest bloody tent on the face of the planet, the thing is filled with 8 large cushions, and when I say large, I mean massive, these thing are ridiculously big. We have 4 king-size,15 tog duvets and 4 whopper sleeping bags, those sleeping bags with the hoods on them that cost about a hundred squid. I would also have a small generator hooked up to a pair of deadly speakers and an full ipod so that tunage, whilst in the campsite, isn't an issue at any stage of the weekend. Outside the tent there are four up-market gazebos tied together, real quality ones and a generous selection of camping chairs with a security guard watching them. Now time for the arrival of my first festival friend - Storm from the X-Men - The number one thing needed for a top class festival experience is amazing weather so who else to put in there but the weather controlling Storm. If a big, horrible, apocalyptic rain cloud is about to position itself over Stradbally come next Friday, don’t worry, there will be nothing to fear, my friends - with a lift of Storm's eyebrow that cloud will be history and it will be nothing but sun, sessioning and soundness for the next three days and nights. As well as that, she can fly, guess who is being sent to the offo every time we run out of gargle. Also, sharing a tent with Hally Berry would be absolutely savage. Festival Room-mate 2 has to be someone who is gonna crack me up throughout my stay, so my next friend for the weekend is the late, great Bill Hicks. From crude, controversial, drunken hilarity at night to sound, intelligent, hangover conversation over breaky. A perfect additive to my festival adventure. Also, he would always be stocked up with smokes, something that is key to my festival going pleasure. My final friend in tent is my imaginary pet silver-back gorilla, Mick. Mick is 9 ft tall, he weighs about 800lbs, he wears a bowler hat and is smoking a stogy at all times. He is chilled out as a mofo, once you don't annoy him and whenever we are going anywhere, I just hop up on his shoulders and off we pop. I never get tired walking around all day, I get to where I'm going a lot faster and I've pretty much got the best view of every stage at the festival. Also, Mick is no lightweight; he can gargle with the best of them so he will be able to keep up with myself, Storm and Bill for the duration of the weekend. He is some man for getting the beer into him, I can tell you. In fact, he is notorious for robbing people’s beer at house parties back home. What are people gonna do about it if they have a problem with him, he's a 9ft, silver-back gorilla, Mick will wear them as a hat if there is any back chat. He is also hilarious craic when you get him going so, in my opinion, he would be ideal tent-mate for this years Picnic. Come on the Picnic 2010!

Go On The Fucking County

2010-08-29T04:27:00.001-07:00

There I was on my couch yesterday afternoon, hung over, getting stuck into a day of football. I just watched Arsenal take Blackburn and I was sitting comfortably and ready to get stuck into Jeff Skilling and the lads for Super Soccer Saturday. We were watching the Chelsea v Stoke game on the laptop aswell; it was quite obsessive now that I think of it. Within the first twenty minutes of kick off of the 3 o clock games, Notts County, my newly promoted sweet hearts, were 3 - 0 down for the third time this season. This was starting to annoy me.

Last season, Notts County beat all kinds records in League 2 - scoring a record 93 points & a record 96 goals and winning promotion in some serious fucking style. They are finally back in League 1, a place they sadly left in 2004. I thought, we'll probably hang around League 1 for a couple of seasons and maybe, with a bit of luck, after a while, find ourselves in the Championship.

The season kicks off with Hudderfield and we get fucking hockied 3-0, okay, understandable, first game of the season, they are playing one of the favourites to win the league this year. Understandable.

The second game is a Carling League Cup first round game and we are against Plymouth, a championship team, this game is a bit more optimistic and we manage to take them 1-0and we are in their ground. Okay, the first game was obviously a complete fuck up.

Second league game, Oldham athletic, okay, we could take these cunts. Oldham have always been a team I could never respect, they have no personality, we'll take from the Plymouth game and start kicking ass. Ninty minutes later, we were 3-0 down - no points - Minus 6 six goal difference, for fuck sake. This is not a good start. The League Cup is good but lets face it, we're not gonna win it. We gotta think about getting wins under belt.

Next game is Dagenham and Redbrige, the daggers, I don't even know where this club is, and it is 2 towns, we are the city of Nottingham, think about it, if those 2 towns had to come together to make a club, the places must be fucking tiny. Lets go, off the mark 3 points. It is a long 90 minutes but we manage to get an 82 minute winner. Get in there, points on the board. Get in there.

Time for the 2 round of the League Cup and we are taking on another Championship club - Watford. We are away to a club that only recently got relegated from the premiership. This will probably be our exit. Half time it is 0-0, grand, kick off the second half and Ben Davis gets a sweet header pretty much immediately for County and it is all too fucking play for. 10 minutes, bang! Ben Burgess get a second one for County - Holy Shit, we are actually gonna win this bad boi. The game finishes 2-1 and we draw the Premier League's Wolves in Round 3. Savage, bring it on. This season is starting to pick up.

I then come back to yesterday afternoon and we are 3-0 down to Bournemouth after 20 minutes, for fuck sake. We get back one before half time. Here is hoping. 60th minute - no score - 70th - no luck - 80th minute - still nothing - 90th minute - still 3-1. That is pretty much it. Oh, County get a 91st minute consolation goal to make it 3-2 and hold it . . . . . hold it. . . . 93rd minute goal - it's 3-3, get in there you little fucking beauty. This season is gonna be alright after all.

Come on County!

30 Years of the Springboks

2010-08-13T02:02:00.001-07:00

The day has come, that long awaited moment has happened for my good mate, Greg Spring. He has finally reached the mature and virile age of 30. 30 years of age. This is significant for me as well, as it marks that I myself have only 6 months of my twenties left to enjoy because it happened when Greg turned 18, it happened when Greg turned 21 and still to this day he is 6 months older than me. I know Greg for about 18 of those years and when I think of it he hasn’t aged a day. The way he looks today is the way he looks in my head the day we met. I am extremely proud and honoured to have known him for majority of his life so in celebration of his 30th year I am dedicating a blog to the growdiest chunfella in Dublin.

I think for us to enjoy and experience the next thirty years of Gregory Paul Spring, we must look back at the last thirty years of Gregory Paul Spring. To truly understand what this man is about. To get into his head, what makes him tic. To have a quick look into the mind of the individual that brought you sayings like chun-a-gred, tweeders, grauwd, HHHooolllaanndd is it and sticking 'ways' at the end of pretty much every word in the English language.

A lot of things happened in August 1980, ABBA were Top of the Pops with ‘The Winner Takes It All’, People in Texas were having a terrible old time with Hurricane Allen, poor auld Mohammad Reza Pahlavi kicked the bucket, promoters in the USSR finally got to bring over a rock band for the first time in there countries history and Nerds were still cuing up in their droves to see Empire Strikes Back but something a little more exciting was happening in a little old suburban town of London, called Surrey. Gregorious Springus was about to enter the world. Born to a very proud Tony and Roz Spring at 3:25 in morning. Weighing in at a healthy 4 pounds, 3 ounces, the nurses knew as she cleaned him off that there was something special about this one. Who in the world could possibly have cuter dimples than this little growd.

Greg eventually grew from a baby into a little boy with the most hilarious haircut in the world, I got onto to Laura, his sister, to scan the photo and send it over to me to put up but sadly she doesn't have a scanner in her gaf.

Even though Greg was a Londoner through and through, he found his love with a football team that he had no association with - Liverpool FC, Tony, who is a die hard Fulham fan, must of been livid. Surrey is also the place where Greg found his love of the English team which many believe he still has to this day. He has recalled many times to me and his mates, his meeting with Matt Le Tissier and with typical cockney cheek, he ran up to Le Tissier and asked

'Mista Le Tissier, Mista Le Tisser, Why won't you ever make the England Team?'

And Matt simply replied

'Coz Bobby Robson thinks I'm too lazy, son.'

In 1991, Greg and his family moved to the mysterious island to the left of England, the homeland of his mother, Roz. He had vague memories of going over to see aunties and uncles but nothing would prepare him for what was about to happen on the mean streets of Rathfarnham in South Dublin.

Within his first week of arriving in Rathfarnham, Greg would make a significant trip to Talking Heads barbers off the Grange Road, this is a significant moment in Greg's life as he would never change this hair style for the rest of his life. It would remain the same for pretty much the next 19 years.

In 1993, Greg entered De Le Salle College in Churchtown to begin his secondary level education, a place where he would encounter some of the teachers that would go on to inspire Greg to this day. Mr. MacSherry, Dave Harding, Mr. Masterson and, of course, the one, the only Chaz.

The Class of 1-3 is where Greg would meet some of the mates he still has to this day - Davey Dwyer, Kieth Downes, Barry Collins, Stuart Doyle and it was through our muturel love of smoking that me and Greg's paths were crossed. Myself, Barry Collins and Davey formed us a band, called JIP. We would be going on about the band and Greg has told me many times that he longed to be a member. ‘He was so jealous of the band.’

Greg's teenage years pretty much consisted of a few things - De La Salle, The Green, Enniskerry, Wesley, . . . . Have I forgetting anything . . . . No, I don't think I have.

The Willbrook Green was the place where we perfected our football skills and I remember distinctly a very heated game of '3 And In' between myself and the Gregmiester, it went on for about a half an hour. I challenged, he excepted, . . . . . . . . He won 3-2. . . . . He such a competitive bastard, ask anyone, beating him at anything feels better than anything else in the world. I will continue to try.

The Green was also a place for hidings and leggin it from hidings for Greg, myself and our chums. We would be enjoying our 15th game of 'Heads N Vollies' of the day and Jamers, Micko and Stobber would pop around for a bit of a chat . . . and a few slaps. Many a time Greg was victim to a fair search, key word here is ‘fair’.

The green eventually was our drinking ground, a place where Greg would prove to be the meanest fucking drunkard the planet has ever seen, a trait that he has some how shaken. In fact I can’t remember the last time I've seen Greg completely bollixed. Ye know, tripping over himself drunk. I have an image of Greg passed out, face down on my oul'pairs living room floor at about 9 o clock at night and my pair were home at about 10. My brother is screaming at me to get this fucking mess out of the gaf. I then remember lugging Greg up to his gaf, me and Franko, leaning him against the door, ringing the bell and legging it. Me and Franko turned around to see Greg's Ma opening the door and Greg falling in after the door. All we could here was - 'Greg, are you alright. Greg'

This behaviour brought us to our next port of call - Wesley. Wesley, probably one of the greatest places. Greg was in Disneyland. I can't really go into any details here but all I can say is TFW. Every Friday we used to gobble our nags on the 48a and in we go with our fake Wesley memberships. Pornography is the only word that can describe what went on in there. It was fuckin savage. After about 2 years, we all evolved to Bectiv where, in terms of the pornography, the bar was raised. Eventually it got a bit scauldy so we began our treks into town.

Out of the blue, one day, I get a call from a bird that I used to know from Wesley, asking if me and the lads wanted to come down to Enniskerry to have a bit of crack, have some cans. 'Fuckin right' I said. I tell Greg and the lads, off to Enniskerry we went willies in hand. It was probably one of the best days of our lives. We went down to be greeted by a massive gang of birds, not a bloke in site. We all got our score on but never had I ever heard of a man getting raped by a bird until that day, and a bald bird at that. Greg was taken advantage of. He was passed out and whilst passed he was accosted sexually. I believe there was a very brief pregnancy scare that soon proved to be false. But it was one of my fondest Greg memories.

A couple of years later when we were about 17, myself and Davey started going out with these girls from Alexander College and a few of these girls mates were very quick to warm to the Springboks, three of them if I'm not mistaken. Over a period of a month, he went out with 3 of them. He was with the first and lost interest pretty quickly, was then going out with her mate the following week and then thought it would be a great idea to not break up with that mate and just start seeing another one at the same time. It was very impressive if you ask me and these birds were hot too. Here was the first sign of the Spring Womanizing Skills kicking into gear. The funny thing was he got away with it. When it all transpired what was going on with these two birds, everyone was cool. They all remain mates to this day including Greg.

Which brings me to another story of Greg getting away with murder. It was warm summer’s night in about July. Greg, myself and the lads were stumbling home from Revels in Rathfarnham Village at about half one. We stroll in through Fonthill which is a short cut home and we discover this JCB, well, it's more like a thing that spreads tarmac. The thing is fuckin huge. There is a dude who is supposed to be watching the fucker who is asleep in a car, he will rue the day he ever fells asleep on the job again. Before you can say, 'way too much to drink', Gal and Greg were in the cockpit of this thing, have started the bad boy up, have lost complete control of the thing and were now beelining for this big fucking gaf. We all stand, holding our breath as we see our 2 mates mill through the front garden wall, into the garden and if it wasn't for the big fucking tree in the front garden, the digger would have been in the suiting room of this house. I have this memory of running up the road beside Greg and the 2 of us are nearly shitting in our kacks with the laughter. The next day we swing by the gaf and there is the owner of the house scratching his head, looking at the digger.

After school, Greg disappeared off to Taunten in Summerset for a couple of years, why? I, still to this day, do not know, neither does he. His oul lad got him this job in his mate’s warehouse. Obviously, Greg felt reminisant of the last story when he was left alone in the warehouse and thought it would be a great idea to jump into a forklift truck that he thought he could drive. Now, to say he lost control of the thing would be an understatement. Not only did he loose control but in doing that he completely wrecked a massive warehouse of stock. There is an image that I will never be able to get rid of as long as I live and it is Greg in this forklift, crying, as it destroying everything in the place.

With his time in England, Greg had 3 memorable relationships - Lisa, Louise and more importantly, Murph. Murphy Spring came along about 9 years ago and as of yet there has never been a bird that even compares to Murph in Greg’s life. Never have I ever seen a man and his cat have an intelligent conversation like Greg and Murph. I've seen them have an argument, like a full blown row.

Eventually, Greg was ready to come home to Ireland and he was bringing Murph with him. I was living in this gaf in Temple Bar, I had just had a whopper session in my place. It was a savage night at Thursday Backlash in Wax. I was only getting started clubbing at this stage, Greg wasn't into it at all. It had been all pubs, the shit clubs and never getting your hole up to that point. I get a phone call -

'Jacko, what's the crack? It's Greg.'

'Fuckin hell, man, what is the story with you?'

'I'm home for good, man. Fancy meeting up.'

'Yeah,'

About 4 hours later, me and Greg are having a coffee in Hag N Daz ice cream parlour in Temple Bar and we discuss what he is thinking of doing?

'I'm thinking of going for this job in Anglo Irish Bank.'

'Sweet, My mate Sean Ryman works there, defo take that, bro. I hear they’re a very reputable bank' !!!!!!!!!

Greg ended up taking the job and from there, pretty much the pair of us have been meeting up every weekend to get sessioned the fuck out of it and it has been the crack. Too many laughs to even comprehend and it continues to this day and tonight should not be any different. I can't wait to celebrate my best mates 30th tonight, it is gonna be fucking savage. Get there you little beauty.

Happy Birthday Greg, see you tonight for an insane amount of crack . . . . . back to yours after, yeah.

Zog This!

2010-08-12T06:55:00.001-07:00

This is a short little blog about a certain player I think should be on a lot of manager wish lists in this transfer window. He has just announced that he wants to be transfered and I think he is a real prospect to be a success at a top club.

Charles N'Zogbia was one of those players that I never really considered as an amazing player at Newcastle, I think it was that I never realised his age, he was only a kid back then. The guy signed for Newcastle in 2004 at the age of 17, the last signing made by Bobby Robson and before he knew it he was a first team regular, playing 41 games and scoring 6 goals in his first season. He had another sweet following season but was being played more so in the left back role, a position that he can still play in to this day. He only managed to score 3 goals in 05/06 but was being eyed up as potential utility player by the likes of Arsenal. I believe the only reason he never really excelled beyond Newcastle in these days was the arrival of Duffer, who pretty much took his position and he warmed the bench under Glenn Roeder for a season and a half. The next season, of course, was the faithful mess of a season where Newcastle faltered to the Championship.

But now at the maturing age of 24, Charles N'Zogbia, in his first season for Wigan Athletic, he has been awarded both their Players' Player of the Year and Fans' Player of the Season for 09/10. Wigan bought him for a bargain price of 8 million quid, what a fucking bargain. He went on to play 49 games last season, scored 6 goals and in that 3-2 come back against Arsenal, he showed some serious leadership qualities. Also now that the French International team has got someone with a brain at the helm, there is no doubt he will be featuring heavily over the next couple of years for them.

I think N'Zogbia would fit into the Arsenal set-up brilliantly, contesting on that left side and also as good cover for Clichy in left back. Also with Everton, he would be good competition for the likes of Bilyaletdinov on the left also cover for Leighten Baines in defence. Anyway, enough of me blowing smoke up this cunts arse . . . . . I'm hungry.

Poor Aisling

2010-08-11T02:08:00.000-07:00

I just read a hilarious article about one of the Xpose girls on TV3 where a couple of lads from Cork put up a facebook page which was entitled 'Get Rid of Aisling O’Loughlin from Xposé'. It obviously gathered up a significant amount of support because she is not happy about it in the slightest. Supposedly, she was so fuming that she has gone and looked for legal advice, threatened to go to the gardi because she has claimed that she has become a victim of cyber bullying at the hands of the cheeky Cork facebookers.

I'm sorry, Aisling, I don't know if you smell the ironic cup of coffee here but I would like to remind you that you are a host on a show call Expose, one of the most reprehensible tabloid shows that has ever graced Irish screens. You do nothing but report on celebrities private lives and engross yourself in gossip whether it be positive or negative. Once it's something that you're cretiness audience might be into, you stick it in there, it doesn't matter to you and now you have the balls to give out when someone has something to say about you. Would you ever get out of it!

Another thing that I want to let you know about Aisling is, you are a celebrity now. You are in the public eye. Whether you realise it or not, you are on television now and that means you are a celebrity, an Irish celebrity. You are going to be in the tabloids. If you put a step wrong, people will write about it. If you are bad at your job, people will slag you. Look at Pat Kenny, do you think every time he got a slagging, he ran to the police. No, he is in the public eye; he takes it on the chin every time. Get some thick skin and take your scalding, it’s a part of the life you’ve chosen.

I would have loved to have heard the conversation with your lawyer.

'Eh, ooh my god, people are, like, slagging me on facebook, what's the crack with me, like, suing them?'

'What?'

'A load of feckin ejjits on facebook are slagging me and I want to, like, nip this in the bud, like, asap.

'Sorry, Aisling, you're in the public eye, it's called free press. If you put yourself out there, people are going to have an opinion on you. Just like you have an opinion on all the celebrities you have on your show.'

'Oh, it's like the same thing is it?'

'Yeah, it is the same thing.'

The bottom line is, if Aisling O’Loughlin wants this slagging to stop, she could look at the reasons why she is getting it in the first place. I have had the pleasure of seeing her in action a number of times and she is priceless. She obviously does no research on her subjects. Here are a few Aisling classics

1. She is interviewing the actor who is playing Spock in the new Star Trek movie. At the end of the interview she says 'Well, thank you for meeting with me and I think there is only one thing left to say, May the force be with you.'

2. She is doing the celebrity news – ‘Pamela Anderson is in Dublin signing copies of her new autobiography, sadly, she was not accompanied by her on and off husband Tommy Lee Jones.’

They are just two that come to mind from the anthology of Aisling O’Loughlin quotes. Look, the bottom line is the whole TV3 station is a joke, she is not alone in there, she is not alone on that show of hers. Where do you guys think you are living? You are living in Ireland, one of the most cynical places in the world, if you are on television you are going to get a slagging, your show is awful, what do you expect. Never was the phrase ‘You reap what you sow’ more perfect for a person working on Expose.

Enemy of my Plate

2010-08-10T15:17:00.000-07:00

Here I am sitting in on a nice Tuesday night, hoping to watch a sweet ass action movie. Me and Tara watched Clockwork Orange last night so tonight we thought we would see if there was something on that wasn't going to freak Tara out so much. I stick on Saving Private Ryan which is on Film Four, thinking that Tara would fancy it. Since getting home from Berlin, she has been obsessed with World War 2. We don't make it through the first scene so we stick on Enemy of the State, starring Will Smith over on TV3. It has been absolutely ages since I've seen this beauty and a bit of Bruckheimer easy going action was exactly what the doctor ordered.

We are about half way through watching it and we realised that this story is completely ridicules and I'm not talking about all the mad surveillance stuff. That is the best part about the movie, all that shit with satellites looking down on us, amazing. No, I'm talking about the story; there is no reason for any of the madness that goes on throughout the movie. None of it.

Basically, this is the story. Some US Senator played by Jason Robards is walking his dog by a lake and he is having a conversation with John Voight who is playing one of these heads of the NSA who wants to bring in this law where there will be 24 hours surveillance on the public but Jason Robards' character doesn't want to pass it so John Voight then has him killed right there and then by one of his goons.

One of the strangest things about this whole movie, before I go any more into the mental story, is the casting, especially the casting of the NSA goons. All of them are actors you know from comedies, they are not exactly the run of the mill NSA types - Jack Black, Seth Green, Jamie Kennedy, Spike Jones, that Irish actor Ian Hart what he is doing there I will never know, Scott Caan who played one of those twins in Ocean 11, Jake Busey who is Gary Busey's son, he is a skinnier, lankier version of his oul fella and the only other movie I can think of seeing him in is Starship Troopers, which is one opf the funniest films of all time. The only one I can take, in any way, seriously is Barry Pepper who is up there as being one of the most serious actors in the history of film. In fact, I don't recall seeing that chun ever smile in a film. He always has that moany head on him.

Back to the story, anyway, they kill your man but unbeknownst to them at the time, comedy actor (another one), Jason Lee from My Name is Earl is filming birds from the other side of a lake. He films the whole thing, the whole murder. They spot him picking up the camera during the chaos of police and press when the body is found and they follow him. Now, this is the part I can’t explain. Jason Lee gets home and obviously can’t wait to checkout the birds he has filming for the last couple of weeks and the lads don't get to him in time. He sticks in the tape immidiatly as he get home, and the lads are standing outside his gaf with guns, waiting for him. This would have been the simplest way for everyone, get to Jason Lee before he sees the tape, simple. No one dies, No one's life is ruined, no one has to be running around in an ipen dressing gown showing off their abs. Get to him, get the tape and job done, you don't even have to kill him.

Okay, next, Jason Lee ends up seeing it, okay, that happenens. He now has to go, he has to die, that should be no problem, these guys are NSA. He makes a run for it but doesn't last very long. Fair play to him though, he makes a good go at it. He's just a bird watcher and he's up against a load of NSA guys, even if they are the funniest looking bunch of NSA guys in the world, they are still NSA.

Now, we have been also following Will Smiths character who is this high class lawyer who has been trying to bring down the mob, he used to go to college with Jason Lee's character, they both bump into each other while Jason Lee is leggin it from the NSA and he drops the disk into Will Smiths bag. Jason ends up getting milled out of it by a big fucking truck a few seconds later and NSA guys are all - 'Where the fuck is the tape?'

In the mean time, Will Smith gets home with the tape on him and he doesn't know at all. Now, this is the case for the next hour of the film, he doesn't have a clue whats going on. The NSA go over all this footage of Jason Lee legging it to see where he might of stashed the shit and they see him give it to Will Smith through some security camera. They see that Will doesn't notice him putting it in his bag, Savage; all they have to do now, is find out who Will Smith is, find out where he lives and asking him for the material. They do precisely that except for one thing. They don't ask him nicely. Instead of just going into the gaf and politely ask could they have a look into the bag, they just act like a bunch of rude cunts and insult the guy in his own place. He then refuses to show them and they leave as calmly as they came in.

Right, why didn't one of them just kick the shit out Will, the other find the bag which they know the tape is in and grab it, happy days, job done! I thought this was very sensitive material. No, they just stroll out. Why? Why do they do this?

The next half hour of the film is the NSA fucking with Will Smiths life. They bug the fuck out of him and his gaf and he still doesn't know about the tape which, at this stage, his son has found. He then for some reason meets up with Gabriel Byrne, why this character is in the film, I still don't know. I’m sure it's for the simple fact that Jerry Bruckheimer had Gabriel Byrne for 2 days and they thought they might write him a nice little character. He arrives and is Will Smiths mate one minute and then tries to kill him for no reason the next minute. You then never hear of that character being mentioned again for the whole movie. Who is this guy?

But the weird thing for me is this, as soon as he meets up with Gene Hackman, Gene lets him know about all the bugs on him and all of a sudden everyone wants to kill Will Smith, out of no where, they want to kill now where they didn't before. They all just start to chase him around hotels and the streets. I don't know why Will doesn't just stop, turn around and go, 'Why is everyone after me? What the fuck do all you cunts want?' and lets say all the NSA guys finally get Will, what are they going to do? Are they going to kill him? If they do that they will never get the tape back, they will be fucked then. And if they wanted to kill him, why didn't they do it earlier in the movie when they had a chance. It's a bit confusing if you ask me. What is everyone doing? What are they doing? The film is the quintessential Bruckheimer movie, all the bad guys die in ridicules shootout ending where Will Smith survives completely unscaved, there are about 20 explosions throughout the whole thing and it all ends where Will and Gene are completely in the clear. Happy ending.

Just, go, watch it again and you will realise that nobody wants to kill anyone in this movie. They just want the tape. The only 2 people that properly get killed are the Jason Robards character at the start and Lisa Bona character who they kill because they are trying to frame Will Smith for some reason. Jason Lee cycles in front of the truck when being chased so he dies accidentally and Jake Busey ends up starting that big gun fight at the end by accident. There are 3 lessons being learned here in this movie.

1. When being chased, stop running and ask whoever is chasing you, what the crack is.

2. When you want someone to give you something, just ask nicely and they will probably give it to you.

3. Stop watching Jerry Bruckheimer movies because they are fuckin awful.

You can get the rest on You Tube!

Roy For Prez

2010-08-06T06:26:00.000-07:00

Let a new day begin for Liverpool Football Club – a new era, a new season, a new manager and hopefully new owners. Owners with a bit of cash and something tells me they’re a club that won’t be loosing the plot, they won’t become a Man City. The fan base just wouldn’t stand for it, there would be absolute up roar.

Torres and Gerard have committed themselves for the foreseeable future. That is some whopper boost for that team’s morale, loosing one of them would have probably unsettled the other and sent Liverpool into mid table misery for the next decade. They were both essential to this next campaign.

Aswell, it doesn’t look like anyone is in too much of a rush to sign Mascharano either, with that 30 million pound price tag around his neck, I don’t know, we are hearing about these connections with Inter but I have a weird feeling that he will be there at Liverpool for the first half of the season at least, and if he goes, ‘So! Who gives a shit?’ Liverpool would then have plenty of cash to then go off and replace him with a more youthful, cheaper, promising defensive midfielder like Lee Cattermole or Nigel De Jong or Tom Huddlestone and if I’m not mistaken they are looking at Christian Poulsen from Juva.

One big loss for Liverpool, I thought, was Yossi Benayoun who was a top player for the club, the only player in my opinion on Liverpool’s bench whoever came off it and made any impact. But if you were to have asked me six months ago whether I would prefair him or Joe Cole on my team, I would of gone Joe Cole every single time. Joe Cole is the ultimate impact player and he will also give them another option when it comes to the formation, it will give Gerard the opportunity to drop back into midfield. I thought Liverpool relied way too much on the Torres / Gerard strike force last year which was one of the main reasons for their season being so unsuccessful. It was their only option. This season it will be different.

They have also made some other very interesting signings. First off, the big Serbian forward, Milan Jovanovic who had good World Cup and what I have seen of him in the 2 legs against that Macadonian team was very impressive; he is very strong and again gives them a completely new option up front. Last season, Liverpool’s attack was all over the gaf and, in my opinion, it has been that way ever since they got rid of Robbie Keane. Yes, they had Torres, one of the best strikers in the world, partnering up with one of the best players the premiership has ever seen, Stevie G but that was about it. You left any sort of support or cover on the bench in the hands of a poor unfortunate 18 year old, Ngog, who in my opinion did alright considering that he’s only a downy chizzler. I’m not even going to bring up Babel, he needs to go asap. Pronto. I just don’t like that player at all. Every time he stood off the bench last season, when Liverpool desperately needed a goal. They would be a goal down against Birmingham at home and up he would stand. I just knew every time, he would go on and do fuck all. That is all different this year. Torres, Jovanovic, Gerrard, Cole, even Ngog, who I think will start to mature after being broken in so harshly last season and lets not forget Dirk but what he has been doing on the wing has been brilliant and is where he belongs, I reckon.

Other signing that I think have been interesting are the signings of 18 years old, Danny Wilson and 17 year old, Jonjo Shelvey (who does not look 17) who are both very well established at their young age. Danny Wilson pretty much played every game for Rangers last season, winning the Scottish treble and also featuring in the Champions League, I think he holds the record for the youngest player ever to feature in the Champions League. Jonjo Shelvey, the youngest player and goal scorer in Charlton Athletic’s history. Last season at the age of 16, he scored 7 goals for Charlton from the central midfield position; I will be looking forward to seeing him grow into the quality player everyone is saying he will become. They will both probably only feature in the FA Cup and Carling Cup but good young cover.

There are some players that featured last season aswell that just had a bad season and with this new era, I think the pressure will now be off and they will surprise people, they will raise their game. Number 1 on the list is Alberto Aquilani. Last season must have been hell for that chunfella. What did they spend? 19 million pounds. For Liverpool to be spending that kind of money, the fans want to see it on the pitch. The bloke, for the first half of the season, just couldn’t shake that injury and for the second, he just couldn’t get into his stride but in a couple of games towards the end of the season, he started to show promise

I also hope Glen Johnson has a good season, I really think in order to do that Roy needs to buy on the right side defence. That guy, Kelly, I don’t know if he is strong enough to contest Johnson’s position. I don’t know who you’d get. Luke Young would be sweet.

But the one man that is going to bring real change to Liverpool is Roy Hodgeson. Their best signing of the summer. The club needed someone like Roy Hodgeson. The team needed it, the club needed it, the fans needed it. What an ideal man to steady the ship. Roy will build a solid team and he will let the players express themselves, something they weren’t allowed do under Benitez. He will hold a personnel relationship with each and every player as aside to treating them like robots. Roy was the best man for that job, there is no doubt in my mind.

I really think Liverpool are going to surprise people this year, I think they are going to be up there and contesting for the title and at 16 / 1 to win the premier league on BetFred.com, lets just say, I know where I will be sticking my money this week. You are never gonna get Liverpool at a better price. You stick a €20 on that; you will take home €320 if it comes in. You stick €50 on it, you take home €800.

I don’t know about you but I can’t fucking wait for this season!

DJ my balls

2010-08-04T16:49:00.000-07:00

I want to speak ever so briefly about DJing and what it is to be a DJ. What is your job as a DJ? What’s the point of you even being there? Why don't we just have some chun stick on a playlist at the party or the club? Why are you there? The answer to that question is very simple but there are a lot of people out there that don't know the answer and a lot of them are DJs.

Over the last few years, I've seen some of the best DJs and producers in the world, I've seen them be amazing and I've seen them be absolutely terrible. They went into the club, they got up onto the decks and they either nailed it or they flopped. They were given 2 hours to entertain the crowd with the music that they thought would grab the club by the balls and that was that.

Afterwards you would go to an after party and people would be DJing at these parties. They had a set, the key to the whole thing was that they had a set and the parties were going fuckin wild, they were amazing. Everyone was listening to what was being played, the tunes were being played in good sequence because it was coming from one bloke. He, whoever it might of been, was building up the party with what he thought would hit the spot, he either got it or he didn't. He had the time to do it. That's what made those parties for me, anyway. Now I can't remember the last time I hung out in one of those rooms in a gaf.

Now, I don't know if I'm going to the wrong parties these days or what, but I am seeing less and less of this carry on. All I see at sessions these days are cunts climbing over each other to play the next tune. 'Me Next, Me Next!' There would be a new cunt behind the decks every second tune. Nobody would be listening, the tunes would be all over the place because of the rotation of styles circulating around the fucking decks, to a point that whenever a person would finally find themselves in front of the decks, they are so fucking happy that they have finally gotten there, they don't give a fuck what the buzz is. They cant! After a half hours cuing, playing that tune that they have wanted to play so badly is the only thing on their minds. They don't give a fuck about whether people are gonna want to hear it or not, they just want to play it regardless, whether it suits the buzz or not.

I see this shit going on in a few bars as well, people jumping in and out of the DJ boxes like the clappers, and there is nothing worse when they’re not even doing anything when they are in there, they're just chilling there or are chatting to the dude playing. Get the fuck out from behind the DJ box if you’re not DJing, will ye. There is nothing more annoying to a non DJ than watching a bunch of fucking DJs just hanging around the DJ box, like some little DJ click reminding everyone that they are all DJs, don’t forget now.

Get out of there, what are you doing in there. There should be only one cunt behind those decks, he should be there on his own for his set or else he shouldn't be there at all, we should just stick on an itunes playlist. I've got a few sweet little playlists on my itunes if you fancy, I'll go behind there and press play if you want me to, I'll do it. Get out of there!

King of Kong Documentary

2010-08-01T10:26:00.000-07:00

If your looking for a documentary to check out over the next while, get a load of this, King of Kong is the story of this ordinary science teacher from Seattle, married with kids, who has decided one day to try and surpass the highest score in Donkey Kong which has been held for 25 years by one the most respected video gamers in the world. It was recommended to by my mate, Emmet, there about a month ago, I never thought it was gonna be any use but I just watched this morning and I fucking loved it. Definitely check it out.

I will give you a link to a page where you can watch the whole movie but in case you haven't got the time to watch the movie in full, here is the trailer.

Link to the full movie - http://stagevu.com/video/ruaznrajemmn

The Road To Inception

2010-07-30T08:13:00.000-07:00

I haven't been looking for to a film coming out in ages, every time some massive blockbuster or a well known remake of a TV show or some long awaited sequel is about to come out I always scratch my head and wonder what everyone is getting so excited about, it’s gonna be shit. They always end up to being shite, pretty much all of them. Okay, for instance, I saw the clip for that new Expendables movie there the other day, with all the 80s actions stars in it, Sly, Bruce, Arnie, Jet, Dolf, Mikey and for about 5 seonds, I thought to myself - 'Holy Shit, that is going to fucking deadl . . . . Hold on a minute, the trailer is fucking deadly but you can guarantee the film is absolute crud.

But for the first time in about 2 years I was genuinely excited about the release of a massive blockbuster, I saw the trailer and I was thinking the exact thing everyone else was thinking. 'This is gonna be fucking savage.' It was gonna be one of those movies that you knew was gonna be sweet. There was no two ways about it. The only thing that was getting at me was Christopher Nolan, the director and I know what you’re probably saying right now, 'What the fuck are you talking about; he is a savage director, Memento, the Batman movies.' Yeah, okay, I'll give you Memento is a fucking kick ass film, what a way to start your career and that Insomnia movie was of okay aswell but I hated the Batman movies. The first one, all that story about him getting trained and slowly becoming Batman, I thought that stuff was quality but all this shit with the Tom Wilkinson as this gangster of Gothem and Cillian Murphy sending the whole of Gothem on the worst acid trip of there lives. I thought all of that was bollix. And as for the second film which I was suspect about when it was coming out, that first scene with the bank robbery - amazing. That opening helicopter shot, the one that is heading towards the big black building, I thought to myself in that scene, 'This cunt can use a camera.' Not only in that scene but the whole film looked perfect and Heath Ledger, what a swansong, I never really rated him as a top class act until I saw him in that movie but, in my opinion, that was it. It was too long, Christian Bale's growly voice was wrecking my head and that whole bit with the boats at the end, a bit out of nowhere if you ask me and the word random is the only word that comes to mind. So I was hoping to Christ that Inception wasn't going to be the same.

What did give me a reassuring feeling in my waters was an interview with Christopher Nolan I read in Empire saying that he was going back to the psychological thriller of Memento and Insomnia, that he had had this idea for years and now that he had made a couple of billion for Warner Brothers with the Batman movies, he could finally make it. So that reinstated the buzz in me about Inception.

The film came out and was getting amazing reviews from some of my favourite critics and all my mates were going crazy about it, people talking about going back a second time, what? I haven't heard that one in a while from everyone, going back a second time. Facebook was off the metre, you know that home page area where people can tell you what they are doing at any given time, yeah, well, every second one was about how savage Inception was except for one person, one very important person and me and that one person agree with each other on nearly every film, we hated The Departed together, we hated Gangs of New York together and together, for the past 8 years, we have been writing a book entitled 'Why the Lord of the Rings film are shite!' which we are not even half way through - My Brother, Max. Immediately, as he uttered the words 'a bit random', my confidence was shot again. Leonardo Di Caprio has nothing on my bro, let me tell you, when it comes to incepting an idea into a person's head, Max Olohan has it in spades, it truly started to spread like a virus. I was back to square one again

Right, time to go an see this bad boy, and stop fucking around, myself and Tara book ourselves two tickets for the night show in Rathmines, get in there you little beauty, lets do this. We are there -

But for the first time in about 2 years I was genuinely excited about the release of a massive blockbuster, I saw the trailer and I was thinking the exact thing everyone else was thinking. 'This is gonna be fucking savage.' It was gonna be one of those movies that you knew was gonna be sweet. There was no two ways about it. The only thing that was getting at me was Christopher Nolan, the director and I know what you’re probably saying right now, 'What the fuck are you talking about; he is a savage director, Memento, the Batman movies.' Yeah, okay, I'll give you Memento is a fucking kick ass film, what a way to start your career and that Insomnia movie was of okay aswell but I hated the Batman movies. The first one, all that story about him getting trained and slowly becoming Batman, I thought that stuff was quality but all this shit with the Tom Wilkinson as this gangster of Gothem and Cillian Murphy sending the whole of Gothem on the worst acid trip of there lives. I thought all of that was bollix. And as for the second film which I was suspect about when it was coming out, that first scene with the bank robbery - amazing. That opening helicopter shot, the one that is heading towards the big black building, I thought to myself in that scene, 'This cunt can use a camera.' Not only in that scene but the whole film looked perfect and Heath Ledger, what a swansong, I never really rated him as a top class act until I saw him in that movie but, in my opinion, that was it. It was too long, Christian Bale's growly voice was wrecking my head and that whole bit with the boats at the end, a bit out of nowhere if you ask me and the word random is the only word that comes to mind. So I was hoping to Christ that Inception wasn't going to be the same.

What did give me a reassuring feeling in my waters was an interview with Christopher Nolan I read in Empire saying that he was going back to the psychological thriller of Memento and Insomnia, that he had had this idea for years and now that he had made a couple of billion for Warner Brothers with the Batman movies, he could finally make it. So that reinstated the buzz in me about Inception.

The film came out and was getting amazing reviews from some of my favourite critics and all my mates were going crazy about it, people talking about going back a second time, what? I haven't heard that one in a while from everyone, going back a second time. Facebook was off the metre, you know that home page area where people can tell you what they are doing at any given time, yeah, well, every second one was about how savage Inception was except for one person, one very important person and me and that one person agree with each other on nearly every film, we hated The Departed together, we hated Gangs of New York together and together, for the past 8 years, we have been writing a book entitled 'Why the Lord of the Rings film are shite!' which we are not even half way through - My Brother, Max. Immediately, as he uttered the words 'a bit random', my confidence was shot again. Leonardo Di Caprio has nothing on my bro, let me tell you, when it comes to incepting an idea into a person's head, Max Olohan has it in spades, it truly started to spread like a virus. I was back to square one again

Right, time to go an see this bad boy, and stop fucking around, myself and Tara book ourselves two tickets for the night show in Rathmines, get in there you little beauty, lets do this. We are there -

Pay Me!

2010-07-23T05:51:00.000-07:00

Once again, I have a reason in my life to put this piece up on the blog, how there is anyone out there that doesn't understand what this guy is talking about is beyond me, listen to him, the sooner people realise that this is how it is the better, listen to what he is saying. How can you be expected to do something for someone for nothing when that person is profiting from it and that person doesn't have the respect to even offer anything. Some people take the piss out there, really they do.

-

MacBeth Like You Have Never Seen It

2010-07-22T17:57:00.000-07:00

There are a load of people I know that could not give a fuck about Shakespeare and I understand where they are coming from. In this day and age, why the fuck would you put yourself through 2 or 3 hours of dialogue that you cant understand. It makes you feel stupid, it makes you feel like you don't understand your own language. I was like that going through school. I was dragged kicking and screaming to productions my whole life and hated every minute of it. I couldn't understand what all the fuss was about until I was about fifteen.

All of a sudden, that Baz Lurman Romeo & Juliet came out and people started paying a bit attention to it. It was being done a way that our generstion could relate to. It was like the lines were being said in a way that we could understand, well, for me any way. Not that it was modern, that wasn't it. It was being done in a different style. I remember seeing a production of Henry the Fourth Part 1 in the Peacock Theatre about ten years ago and feeling the same way. The actors and the directors were doing something different with it. All of a sudden, I was into this shit. I couldn't get enough of this stuff.

I have uploaded a production of the Royal Shakespeare Company's MacBeth, shot in the Roundhouse in Camden in London back in 2001, I remember seeing it for the first time with my oul'fella, he was researching the role of the porter which is particularly amazing in this production. I cant believe it is on you tube. As soon as I saw it I just had to put it up. Check this out for a master class on how to do Shakespeare. You will love it

The Rules of Attraction

2010-07-22T17:23:00.000-07:00

Check this, I just saw this and I remember myself and my mate from school, Joe Burke, went to see this film and we thought it was sweetest, this bit especially, check this, it's from the film based on the novel by Brett Easton Ellis, Rules of Attraction. The character who is on the trip has only a small part in the movie but Brett Easton Ellis wrote another novel based him called Glamorama. It was supposed to be made a couple of years ago with the same actor, Kip Pardue but, I don't know, if anyone knows what happened i'd love to know. If you haven't read either novel, you should defo check them out

Play with this

2010-07-22T17:16:00.000-07:00

I remember going to this when I was about 13, it blew the shit out of me. I don't know if the film does this piece justice in anyway, but when you see those 3 urns on stage and the three heads coming out of them and when the light comes up on the first one and the three actors begin to deliver the lines at the the pace that they are told to give them as it is written in the script by Beckett, it absolutely knocks you out.

I asked actress, Bernadette MacKenna, a couple of years later, what it was like, she simply said she felt like having a nervous breakdown before every performance

About a decade later, I remember asking my mates dad, Stephen Brennan, an actor who had played it at one stage, what it was like, he said 'Play, the second most terrifying thing I've ever done stage.' The second, I thought to myself, what was the the most 'What was the first?' I asked in a rediculous amount of interest 'Piece of Monologue by the same cunt' he replied

I never saw 'Piece of Monologue' on stage, I saw the film of it, it's good but very slow, not nearly as entertaining as Play - Check this out

2010-07-19T16:55:00.000-07:00

Don't worry lads, you might think i'm neglecting my blog but i am bubbling up to an amazing blog over the next couple of days, it is going to be a whopper and i'm not talking about that shit you get from burger king, i'm talking about a serious fucking angry blog about life, art and the univerice, it's comin, it's comin, it's comin, ah, it's comin

Virtual Slackification

2010-07-02T07:10:00.000-07:00

Okay, it's time to knuckle back down to this blog of mine. I have been slacking so badly over the last month since I started working with the Gaiety School but now that the class of 2009/10 have graduated with flying colours with a very impressive show in the project, it puts me right back where I was in May, on the scratcher with nothing to do but talk some horse shit to whoever decides to read this thing. The month of July is gonna be jam pact with . . . . . what do you call these things . . . . blogs? Okay, blogs it is. July will be jammed to the rafters with blogs.

I have a fountain of things on my mind at the moment, things I need to get off my chest, things I want to discuss in great detail, things that are both annoying me & making me smile at the same time . . . . I think that is what you call a paradox, but I'm not sure. I did ordinary English in the leaving so, please, don't hold it against me if I am completely wrong with that word.

Speaking of which, I just went into Celtic bookies in Harold's Cross there to put on my daily World Cup bets, which I might add is the most dank, horrible bookies in all of the world, pretty much a carbon copy of the bookies Ewan MacGregor goes into take a shit in Trainspotting. Anyway, I stroll in and I check the odds for the coming Holland v Brazil game and who do I see viciously throwing his betting slip at the monitor but my old Leaving Cert English teacher, Mr. McClure and he has not aged a day, in fact he looked a couple of years younger. He turned to me and gave me a very confused look of recognition, I nod in salute back and he turns back to his virtual dogs. Virtual dogs, beautiful . . . . . . Whose idea was that?

What a fucking scam? Who thought that they could get away with that in the first place or, hold on a second, who thought that it would even catch on. That grown men would sit around and bet hard cash on a fucking computer game, cheer on their chosen fictional horse that comes from a fictional stable and of course, who can forget, his fictional trainer. Every time I see it, I laugh my balls off. I can just see a load of guys in some virtual dogs/ horses head office some where like Ballymount, everyone with a joy pad and they are tapping those buttons like the clappers, each employee representing a different horse, just like Atlanta Olympics on the Mega Drive when you were a kid.

Virtual Racing, if the word degenerate doesn't spring to mind, I just don't know what will. Are you for real, lads, I'm just shocked it caught on, brilliant. I applaud you whoever came up with the concept. I applaud you

Bet of the Century

2010-06-23T02:33:00.000-07:00

Hay Everyone, I know I have been extremely lacks in my commitment to my blog but have no fear, I will be back at the end of the week. I have been a tad snowed in there for the last couple of weeks and that snow will be thawing very soon.

What I have for you in this blog is my World Cup bet of the week, so get on this bad boy. You will get anything from 50/1 to 75/1 for this, and maybe more on sites like Betfare. The bet is

England to loose on penalties against Germany in the second round

Slovenia are gonna be no pushovers but I defo think England will take them, just about and I believe USA are gonna give Algeria nice hiding, sending the USA into the Winning position in the group. This will leave England in the runner up position. England will then have to play the winner of group D.

Group D, I believe will go something like this, it is a simple race between Germany and Ghana in a showdown for Group D. Germany will take this home, sending them into the second round against England.

Let's do it

They Are Shite

2010-06-13T06:34:00.000-07:00

Okay, we are 3 days into the World Cup and, at this stage, we have seen 12 of the teams of the 32 competing and the one thing that I have to say after watching most of the games (I missed the South Africa - Mexico games but caught the highlights) but the one thing that has stood out to me is this, I have no doubt in my mind that Ireland could have every team that has played so far. It is so fucking annoying; we are so much better then them all, it is unreal.

The French were horse shit. They should have taken those 3 points from Uruguay, which was the game that was a sure thing in the group, they needed those points. They are gonna find it very hard to take 3 points from South Africa and Mexico and you can be sure that they will have Uruguay, I can tell you. They didn't seem to be communicating in any way throughout the game and when Henry's shot was blocked down by some Uruguayan defender's arm. Just seeing him appealing to the ref - 'Would ever shut up, you fucking sap, you. Don’t even think you are that cheeky because I will kill you, Tierry.'

Then, we were given a look at the team that are 3rd favourites to win the competition, the mighty Maradona back at the World Cup with a team that, on paper, would scare the bollix off any other team in the competition, a team so jam packed with talent that I would say there is about 500 million euro worth of players in the squad but when on the pitch, in a match, the words headless chickens are the first words that spring to mind. It’s like they have a strike force and a defence with nothing in the middle. Mascherano seems to drop back into the centre back line. Gutierrez, that left winger for Newcastle, is playing in right back and looks like he has never played there in his life. Everyone is constantly pushing up to a point that there are 5 of them in and around the penalty area, leaving the team geriatric, Juan Veron, on his own in the midfield. They could have easily lost to Nigeria who were shite. The only reason they didn't get anything out of the game was because they couldn't hit the target. They had the opportunities and if Argentina give the likes Brazil, Spain, Holland and Germany the same opportunities, they will be beaten very badly.

England were pants as well, they got that early goal and they were coasting along nicely, they conceded that unfortunate equaliser and they couldn’t get back into it. Their confidence was shot. They didn't have strength of character to get back into it. Half the team were non existent and if they think there is any hope of them lifting that trophy after that, they have another thing coming

The bottom line is and what I’m trying to get at is, Ireland, so far, would have any of these cunts. It is irritating me to the core.

Bathe Me It

2010-06-12T02:07:00.000-07:00

The greatest sporting competition has begun, fuck sporting actually, one of the greatest events in the world has begun and I cannot wait to delve into some serious ball play over the next 48 hours. I am going to suck this up with a vuvuzela. I am going to loose a fortune. I got paid on Thursday and when I say I am going to tear my wages a new one, I mean it.

It is looking good betting wise so far. In an accumulator, I had Mexico - South Africa to draw and France - Uruguay to draw, so I have the 2 difficult ones out of the way. All I need now is Argentina to beat Nigeria, Germany to beat Australia, Italy to beat Paraguay and Cameroon to beat Japan. It isn't over by a long shot but it was those draws that were the up in the air results. Argentina, I know, will make me sweat tonight against Nigeria and that Cameroon match is freaking the shit out of me.

I also did one of these World Cup Swoops with 7 other lads, everyone sticks 20 yo yos in and you get to pick 4 teams. 2 deadly teams and 2 dodgy teams with a prize for the winner and a smaller one to the guy who has the worst team. So the whole idea is not to hit middle of the road teams. You are looking for sheer quality or absolute shittness, that is the game plan and I couldn't have hit more middle of the road if I tried. I am the white line in the middle of the road outside my gaf. I drew -

Holland
Serbia
Japan
Honduras

Okay, we all know that Holland had a great qualification with maximum points and only letting in 2 goals in the whole group but all they had to worry about in that bad boy was Norway, Scotland, Macedonia & Iceland. They would want to be winning that group handsomely, in fairness. I can see them getting to the quarters where, if they top their group and so do Brazil, they will meet and when that happens, let me tell you, they will be sucking on bong on the banks of a canal in Amsterdam before they know it.

Serbia, yeah, they were the team who topped the group with France in it but they don't stand a chance. They have a bitch of a group with Germany, who I think are dark horses in the competition. Nobody is looking at them, every player in that squad is playing in the Bundesliga. They will be a very organised and hard to beat. You also have Ghana, an African nation, they are missing Essien, yeah, but as we saw last night, the African teams are so up for it and as for the Soccaroos, well, they proved to be no push overs in 2006.

So that top prize is not looking too good for Jack and when you look at the other end of the spectrum, it is looking as grim. My teams are too good.

Japan are in a tough group but not tough enough, they will come last to Holland, Denmark & Cameroon but I need a few whippings to happen. It is the same with Honduras. Yes, Spain will probably kick 3 colours of shit out of them but chances are they will play a weakened team and I can see them maybe getting a draw or something off the excitement that is Chile or Switzerland. I had my eye on North Korea or New Zealand, that will be fun to watch. I don’t want to be patronizing but North Korea, pooooor North Korea. Ah well, come on the accumulator.

I also did this thing with Boyles Sport where if you make a fiver bet, you get to enter into this free competition where you have to guess how the World Cup is going to transpire, like, you have to pick the winner of each group, the runner up of each group, second round winners, quarters, semis, final, and winner. You nail it; you get a million squid. . . . . I did 2 of them and I'm taking it fucking home. You are currently reading the words of a millionaire, get in out of that, I'm already spending the money.

NTL - No Televisual Love

2010-05-28T06:38:00.000-07:00

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?

Treble Morto For Me

2010-05-26T06:40:00.000-07:00

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.

Let Me Out Or I'll Shoot My Way Out

2010-05-25T07:40:00.000-07:00

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

2010-05-25T02:49:00.000-07:00

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

2010-05-25T02:30:00.000-07:00

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

Access My Arsehole

2010-05-19T01:35:00.000-07:00

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

I Knew About All This

2010-05-17T01:45:00.001-07:00

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!

Eating Henry

2010-05-13T08:35:00.000-07:00

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.

Rest In Piece - The 108

2010-05-11T01:52:00.000-07:00

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.

The List

2010-05-07T14:38:00.000-07:00

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.

The Shabby Theatre

2010-04-23T06:52:00.000-07:00

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

2010-04-20T02:51:00.000-07:00

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

2010-04-19T02:05:00.001-07:00

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

2010-04-18T11:48:00.000-07:00

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

2010-04-15T01:23:00.000-07:00

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

2010-04-10T04:25:00.000-07:00

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!

2010-04-09T01:33:00.000-07:00

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

2010-04-08T15:34:00.000-07:00

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.

Come Pine With Me

2010-03-30T14:52:00.000-07:00

I have found my new favourite show, I'm addicted and it seems to be on constantly, it is amazing. I seem to be watching it for hours on end every night. Come Dine With Me. Every night this week they have been showing Come Dine With Me marathons so it has been non-stop televisual feasts for the Jackhammer.

The first thing I love about the show is the food part of the show. Some of the stuff they make looks as tasty as a motherfucker, it is inspiring me to be way more inventive and adventurous in the kitchen. What did I just say? Would you stop talking you idiot. But on the flip side some of the shit they cook looks like complete bilge, basically, showing me how not to do it.

Secondly, I adore some of the head the balls that they get on this show, it's like they have scoward the length and breathe of Britain for the biggest psychos they can find. Over the last week I have seen some of the most racist, overly competitive, rude, intensive mad yokes to ever grace my television. I have, on several occasions, had to run out of the room with sheer embarrassment. I do not know how they seek them out but what ever they are doing, they really know how to attract ejjits to their show. Every show there is the most extreme tension or a massive argument. I don’t know about you but when I am a guest in someone’s house, a complete stranger, I like to think that I am the most charming and polite cunt in the world. I would be so morto to critisis some bloke after he has just slaved over a full spread for me and four others. It’s the last thing I’d be at. Even if he boiled me up a nice shite, I’d be enthusiastically licking my plate. I would be asking for seconds, Jesus, I’m so charming.

Another piece of genius about the show is what the producers do with all these mad things. They have there contestants, they are ready to go, what is the next step? I will tell you what the next step is, they put them in groups of four, the only thing is the four people chosen, their personalities couldn’t be more clashing if they tried. Contestant Number 1 would be this flamboyant gay guy who is load and in your face about how gay he is, consistently turning everything into a cock joke. He is twenty two, single and still lives with his oul’one. Contestant Number 2 is a fifty-five year old oul’fella who is married with 6 kids, he is a high conservative and he spends most of his time on the golf course, he is highly sexist, his daughter is a lesbian and he is not very happy about it. Contestant Number 3 is forty five year old lesbian; she is a vegan and can’t stop talking about the fact that she is a vegan. She likes to entertain guests with her alternative style of singing, and finally Contestant Number 4 is a 38 year old girl who is obsessed with sex, her house is decked out like a dominatrix dungeon and she is a borderline alcoholic. Now, stick all these people in the same room, tell them to cook up a storm and you have one of the best shows on television.

I need to do it; I need to bring this show to Ireland, amazing. The show was made for Irish people. I can see it now; I could take this show to the next level. First, I would stick in one of those upper middle class, suburban oul’ones, a real complainer. Next, throw in one of those aging Dublin gay guys, still lives with their Ma, 55 years old, wearing a bright green suit. Then, of course, every show would not be complete without a total scumbag, tracky bottoms tucked into the socks, baseball cap at a ninety degree angle, the fucking works, the biggest pie ball I can find. And finally, I’d stick in one of those real working girls in, all business, you know those birds you see swaning around Dublin, they never look like they stop working, ever, even when they are out, they are talking business constantly. That should do it. Any TV producers out there like the idea? Let’s do it, trust me, it is a winner. It will be hilarious.

Wait, I know, I want to play. Does anyone fancy actually playing with me? Get in contact with me and we’ll organise it. Me and three others, we’ll all spend one night in each others gafs for dinner and we should all through 20 quid into a pot and the winner takes all. I’m ready and waiting. Bring it on!

Limerick can drink, and we cant, well, we can just not in a pub, Doesn't matter, we're still gonna beat them

2010-03-25T14:18:00.000-07:00

I fucking love the shite that goes on in this country; it makes my laugh out load, the whole lot of it. I just saw the report there on the nine o clock news about the Limerick publicans and, because of the special event that is the Munster - Leinster match which is played in Thurmond Park on Good Friday, they are all able to open the doors to their pubs and serve up pints by the dozen.

Is anyone else scratching there heads here? So if I'm a publican in Dublin, can I open my doors at the same time or is it just to people in Limerick and is it Limerick City or County or what . . . . . or did I have to be one of the publicans in court, desperately trying to change the law and if I wasn’t one of those chuns, I suppose I’m not allowed. I think a few more gargles is the last thing the city of Limerick needs. If I own a pub literally on the border of Limerick and Tipp or Limerick and Cork, like if I had a pub in Newport, would I loose my licence if I opened my doors at the same time as someone in Limerick, only 5 miles down the road.

Why is that law even in place now anyway, surely this little special events loop hole that the fine publicans of Limerick have found has put the whole Catholic, No drinking on Good Friday law into disrepute, wouldn’t you say. A priest was in the report saying that people still have the choice not to drink. Okay, shouldn’t that be the way all the time, like, for everyone and what makes this Munster - Leinster game any different to any event happening that day, it's not like the mass majority of the population will be watching it. The majority of the population of Ireland won't have any interest in the match in the slightest. If it was another event, I wonder, would they let people open up, a bigger event.

Also have we all forgotten that it won't be just the places around Thurmond Park that will be interested in watching the match in a pub that day, it isn't Limerick playing in this game, it's Munster, and if my ordinary level geography serves me correctly, which I barely passed by the way, I believe there are 5 other counties in Munster and one of those counties has nearly three times the population of Limerick. They obviously want fuck all to do with the match, do they?

And lest we forget the other team in the game, Leinster, the better team, the team that kicked the shit out of those mullahs last year in the Heineken Cup. The team that are going to spank all their little bottoms blue on Good Friday. What are we supposed to do? Are we supposed to do the same thing as every other person in Ireland does and stock up on as much gargle as we can, like as if the pubs were going to be closed for a year because we will, we have been doing it for years, we are going to drink that day, let me tell you. I just have only one question and it is a very basic question.

Why are some people in Ireland aloud to drink in pubs on Good Friday and others aren't? I’m trying to get my head around that question. I understand that it is an important, special day but not only in Limerick. Ireland have two of the finest rugby teams in Europe and they are to go head to head this Good Friday and the publicans of Limerick are granted the option to open their pubs doors, yet everywhere else in Ireland, can't. I'm sorry but the word hypocrisy is springing to mind.

I have always thought the idea of closing the pubs on Good Friday was the most ridicules joke in the world, not that I'm an alcho or anything. In fact, to tell you the truth, I rarely go to the pub these days, I much prefer drinks in a gaf, it's cheaper, there are good tunes and there are fewer cunts you have to talk to.

The law was put in place in a time when the Catholic Church had influence in this country, when it had sense of dignity, when it had credibility, now, no one gives a fuck, and even if we did give a fuck about it, aren't we living in a more integrated society where not everyone you meet in Ireland is a Catholic and as a society aren't we supposed to take that on board to make the whole integration thing work.

In the end, I just think it is so fucking funny, I don't really give a shit about any of it; I know where I’ll be watching the match. With a load of mates, in a gaf, swilling cans. Pubs open or pubs closed, either way that’s where I’ll be. I just think it is so fucking Irish. More and more, as the days go by, as I live out my years here, this place just makes me stand there and shake my head with an extremely confused look on my face, trying to workout if I'm actually in an episode of Father Ted or not. Seriously, I'm not having a laugh.

Goodbye Belly

2010-03-25T06:11:00.000-07:00

Okay, that's it; I am going to go for it. I am going to loose the belly. I have been putting this shit off for a ridicules amount of time. For years, I've been saying to myself that I'd eventually get into it but I have been constantly putting it off. Do you know what my excuse has been, excuse, I love it, . . . . . an excuse, to myself, but my excuse over the last couple of weeks has been the fact that I have runners. You can buy a shitty pair Dunes runners for twelve fucking quid. Guess where I'm headed after this blog, Dunnes is where, with twelve squid in my wallet and I'm getting my act together. Goodbye belly, see you later, you fat cunt! You are history.

Step 1 - I have been telling Wah to fuck off for way to long. The guy is still hounding me with text messages about 5 a side up in Ballinteer. He is one persistent motherfucker, I'm going to take him up on it and not only that but its gonna become a regular fixture. . . . . Jesus, I am going to be shit. The lads that play every week are gonna be running rings around me. I'm gonna have to go in goal for most of it. Fuck it, I've got to start some where, fuck them, I'll have size on my side. If some little shit starts getting all tricksy with the ball, I'll just mill the little cunt into next week.

Step 2 - Myself and Wah went to a Michael Jackson dance class at the last Elecric Picnic and when I say that we were fucked after it, I would very much telling you the truth. This wasn't perspiring, it was something different, I was fucking soaking, it was like I getting out of a swimming pool. Okay, I had been getting drunk and madge for the three days previous but it was still an outrageous amount of sweat. . . . I know what your thinking, 'Jack, where are you going with this?' I'll tell you. The bird that was doing the dance class, her name is Jane Shortall and she does her class every Tuesday night in town. So we are starting those bad boys next week.

I can’t wait; I can’t wait to feel fit again. I was a sporty little shit when I was younger, time to get the shit together. Go on, Jacko!

PS Speaking of the Picnic, Leftfield, I cannot fucking wait. If I was to pick one act to play this picnic, Leftfield would have been top of my list, Roxy Music should be sweet as well . . . . . . . anyways, I'm off to buy those runners.

Ah for fuck sake, I just received a text saying that I was the eleventh person to get back about the 5 a side, shit anyway, a well, maybe next week.

In Spiration

2010-03-22T01:50:00.001-07:00

You would think that when I haven't put anything up on the blog in a week that there must be loads going on in my life, that there must be something pre-occupying me so much that the last thing I'm thinking about is writing a blog, like, 'Jesus, Jack must be so up to his tits it's not even funny.' Well, my friends, you would be very very wrong, I have been doing fuck all. It's just I have had absolutely nothing to shit on about. I have been scanning my brain day by day for something that be even slightly humorous but sadly, for the last week, I have come up short. Not only that but I have start to worry about it. I have started to worry about not having enough bullshit to talk about. Then it dawned on me, I do, I can talk about having fuck all to talk about and about the fact that I am stupidly worried about it. Not only that but I reckon I can make it vaguely entertaining.

I said to myself as I started this thing that I couldn't force it. If I have nothing to write about, I would have nothing to write about. I would rather have nothing up here than absolute crap (like this isn't complete bullshit). So for anyone who is actually reading this and concerned that I might be loosing interest, please, do not fret, I'm sure inspiration will come shortly. It's just taking its fucking time.

Stability

2010-03-15T12:01:00.000-07:00

Nice, confirmed my next gig which starts at the end of April, the Gaiety School of Acting gradational Show, sweet, that will take me up to about the 20th of June, then I will hopefully start the drama teaching course at the beginning of August, and that is 52 weeks long . . . . . that means I'm good . . . until August 2011. . . . I know what I'm gonna be doing until August 2011. . . . . Jesus, that is so fucking weird, my life hasn't been so laid out and organised in ages. Not since school anyway. Jesus, August 2011.

I have been fucking around in this free lance shite for so long now, that I have forgotten how it feels to know what I'm doing for more than 2 months at a time. I hate it so much. Not knowing whether I'm gonna be broke or loaded for any given year. You are so up and down it is unreal. You are like a financial yo-yo. You can never make any solid plans in your future because, number 1, you never know if your gonna be working at the time or not, number 2, you never know if your gonna have the money or not. I'm sick of it.

For years, I turned my nose up at full time work, the idea of tying myself to a job, like, forever. I loved the way I was able to make my way in theatre, jumping from stage management job to stage management job to the occasional acting job to the next stage management job. I'm so sick of it, it's not even funny. I need stability for a while. I need to know exactly what I will be doing and when I'm doing it from now on because the other way is driving me insane.

I used to love the theatre business, I grew up in it. My folks being actors, I was dragged in and out of every theatre in Dublin since I was child. I went to see production, sat in on rehearsal and went to parties right through my youth, loving it.

I remember when I hit about 4th year in school, the time when you actually start to think seriously about what the fuck you were gonna do when you left school. All of a sudden there was class on your curriculum called careers and I remember thinking to myself, theatre is the only thing for me, theatre or film. I went to study film in Ballyers, realised that the course was horse-shit and that I now had a diploma in renting DVDs. I didn't go near film, I went straight into theatre.

I got into stage management for some reason unbeknownst to myself, I must of thought that 'being in the business, is better than not being in the business' which is a load of my arse. If I really think about it, not much has changed since that year. I'm still farting around with the same jobs as I was 7 years ago. If I had said to myself that I'd be still doing this same shit when I was 29, I would have stitched myself a loaf.

Conspiracy Theorist at Work

2010-03-15T09:12:00.000-07:00

Okay, here is my insane theory of the week, I have been bundling this around in my head since I got up this morning, and I can’t shake it, it’s a farfetched idea so just bear with me. Imagine this -

David Beckham is vaguely worried that his place on the England team is not secure. His competition to keep the place is unreal. He has Lennon, Young, Walcott, Wright-Philips, Milner, Downing & Gosling and he knows how many places are on the squad and He also knows how much the World Cup needs him to be apart of the tournament.

Fifa and all the sponsors associated are in the same boat, Beckham not being a part of the World Cup would be disaster; it would affect the whole tournament as far they are concerned. He is the world’s biggest football icon. They need him there. They need to be a part of it.

Now, Fabio Cappello is very aware that he is in charge of one of the favourites to lift the World Cup, he has the player that is playing the best football in the world, banging in goals for fun. He knows with the likes of Rooney playing the way he is. They are well on their way to winning the fucker; he is fully focused on that and that alone. There is no room for nostalgia, he will pick the best players and when I look at that list of players, David Beckham doesn't have a hope of making the squad, injury or no injury.

Now, here is the idea. Maybe Beckham faked the injury. I know, I know, hear me out. Just humour me for a second, just think about it, go with the idea of 2 minutes. Let’s say Fifa are saying we can’t afford to risk not having him in the tournament, which could very well happen. We can't just let that hang on Fabio's decision, whether he is goes or not. So what can we do? How about we remarket the whole thing, remarket Becks as this fallen hero of England, it might even take some attention away from the John Terry fiasco. He'll fake the injury, a big fucking hoopla will be made from it and Capello will offer to bring him, not as a member of the team but an ambassador to the team. An icon that will help th . . . . . . . . Wait a minute; what the fuck am I talking about, this is just farcical, as I'm going over it in my head, as I try to write this thing down, it gets more and more ridicules. The amount of people that would have to be in on this is insane, a load of people from AC Milan, a load of people from LA Galaxy and a shit load from the World Cup. What was I thinking? Trying to keep that many people quiet would be impossible. I swear I have been thinking about this all day and I thought I was onto something. I've got to calm down, that all it is. Jack, just calm the fuck down. Ye know what I got to do, don't you? I've gotta start focusing my mind on more important things, more important issues, maybe get a little bit more constructive with my time. Like, when was the last time I went for run, fucking ages. When was the last time I got any proper exercise at all? I have got to get my shit together in that department but I have no runners, I can't go for a run in a pair of fucking Converse, can I? I would look like such a spa. Fuck it; I’m sure it will be grand.

Green 19

2010-03-11T12:26:00.000-08:00

Myself and Tara were hell bent of heading out for something to eat tonight, we hadn't been in a restaurant in about a month so we said to our selves, We don't give a shit what anyone has to say about it, we are going out for something to eat. People can have their opinions about the whole situation but one thing is for sure, we were going to have someone cook for us and we going have someone serve on us hand and foot

And it is business as usual, if you were to pick 2 of the most indecisive cunts on the planet, its myself and my bird. We are literally traipsing the streets of Dublin looking for the perfect place. The place that we both know is going to satisfy both of us. Not a place we had been before. It was gonna be one of those nights where we get a little bit adventurous, a little bit daring. The place had got to be of equal interest to the two of us but yet carry that element of funkiness that other restaurant didn't.

Eventually the two of us are stopped; standing in the middle of Camden St., knackered because we had been walking for about a fucking hour trying to find a place. At this stage, we were starting to feel a bit faint, hunger is truly kicking in, we had to find a place. We go to flip between Green 19 and Bobos. I know, I know we said we wanted to go somewhere that we had never been but Bobos is so fucking good and the only other place on Camden St. that I’ve even thought about is Green 19 but never went because it looks a bit too salady. We flip, heads for Bobos and harps for Green 19. Harps it is and in we go, delighted with ourselves.

We sit down on these high stool at these high tables where if people are sitting beside you, they are very much sitting beside you, you can hear every word of their conversation. This is made doubly weird by the fact that the cunt sitting beside Tara, opposite me, is Shane Horgan, the Irish rugby player and as he is signing a rugby ball, Tara asks me the best question in the history of questions - 'Does that chun play rugby or something?' - Fucking Legend.

I have to say the place was very nice, bright and warm with some low funky house music being pumped in. I immediately felt relaxed and, to tell you the truth, I was feeling very uncharacteristically adventurous about what I was going to eat. I had been watching 'Come Dine With Me' all week so I was up for it. Ready. I coolly looked at my menu getting ready to glance over the main courses and casually pick the most out there fucking dish. Tara said she was gonna go basic tonight and go for the Green 19 burger, which seemed to be in front of every single person in the place and I could see why. They looked tasty as a motherfucker.

I remembered from one of the shows I had watched during the week that this dude made a venison pie which looked the shit and low and behold on the menu, what do you know, Venison Pie with Horseradish Mash with Gravy. . . . . . . . . I said to myself, fuck it, 'I'll have the venison, please.' Tara looked at me in shock. 'Baby, are you sure.' she says 'I was born sure.' I said, with an annoying little grin on my face. I sat in anticipation for the next hour. Shitting myself.

Drinks, I asked the girl were any of the beers, pint bottles, she said, 'Yes, all of them, Sir.' That is what I am fucking talking about. The one thing I can not stand is when I go to a place and you politely say, 'Yes, I'll have a Budvar, please.' and your man brings you over a small bottle of beer. . . . . . . . one of those long neck things. . . . Why do you stock them when you can just stock the normal pint bottle size, I’d be asking in my head. Are you trying to annoy me? Do you want me to come back here again? I swear to god, I have not gone back to places because of that sort of shit and, you know what, I will go back to a place pacifically because of it too. Like as in, if they stock the large bottles as apposed to the other. Anyways, Green 19 passed the first Jack test with flying colours, Pint Bottles of Beer; listen up, all you other places, when I order a bottle of beer for a fiver I don't want to feel like I’m being ripped off when a mingy little 330ml bottle is put in front of me. Lads in the restaurant business, if ever you are going to take any advice from me, take this, change what your doing with the fuckin bottles and shut up!

The food comes and it looks sweet. The portion is a little bit small but myself and my mate, Greg, who are both of the portly posture, have come to the realisation that this whole stuff ourselves until we cant move buzz, is not only helping us on our way to sphericalness but it is no way to enjoy your food. So we have both made a pact that small portions are the best option. It’s nice to feel nicely full and all that. You shouldn’t have to open your pants after every single meal.

I delve in through the pastry to get at the venison which I have never had before and was very much looking forward to it and fucking hell, it was tasty; the meaty flavour was so strong and went with some mixed vegetables in this kind of pepper gravy. The mash potato was in one of those neat egg shapes at the side of the plate and to say it was a lovely experience putting it into my mouth is a complete understatement. Up there with one of the tastiest mashes I've had, although, and I know I'm sticking with the whole Greg thing and all that, I could of done with a little bit more of it. I had a taste of T-Bags Burger and it was as good as it looked, pity about the chips though, overdone, over crispy little excuse for chips but, 'Hay, that was the only thing I found to be negative.'

The bill came to 30 euro, for 2 meals and 2 beers, that is a pretty fucking savage deal and stick a starter, a desert and a few more drinks there, you could get away handsomely with 50 squids. It has an area upstairs for big parties aswell which I must put forward as an idea to everyone one day.

Anyway, I am nicely full, nicely high; Paddy's Day is coming so I'm off to bed to recharge the batteries. It’s gonna be a big one

Seice Hoooooly Shit! That Is Way Too Much For One Day

2010-03-10T02:35:00.000-08:00

It's been a surreal two days for me, it all started yesterday. Tara went off to work, leaving me sipping a cup of tea on the couch, I was flicking through the channels, (the basic NTL package) and as I started to go through all the channels for the third time, I realised there was nothing on. It was unreal, I grew up in a gaf with about 13 or 14 channels and there always seemed to be something on, anything to watch when you were in between shows, you could always find something to entertain you for a half hour until your show started, but now I must have 60 channels and I am finding it hard to be even remotely interested in anything. . . . ever

One of the saving graces amongst all the crap are those History, Biography and Discovery channels when they are not showing that show about those guys who fish for those crabs in the Bering Strait, I cannot bear that show and I hate people love it. It seems to be the same show every time I pass it. But there on the History Channel was 'Hitler - A Profile'. Right, the show was just about to get starting and it began at his birth, his oul'pair, his mates and was going to tell the whole story of his life. I said to myself, 'Lets learn about good old Dolfy, try and learn something about the most horrible guy to walk the planet as I sit here in my boxers, scratching my ball bag.

I was hooked after about 5 minutes, it went right through his teenaged years, him trying to get into art college, then his time on the street and it delved into his character as a person. I had never really watched anything in this great depth about him before and for the rest of the day I went on a Nazi, Holocaust, Second World War Bender. Right after 'The Profile' show I was onto a savage documentary about the 'Battle for Berlin', it completely hooked me, I was about 4 hours sitting there in total. I was supposed to be cleaning my gaf after the weekend and supposed to be ringing my landlord about the fact that our electricity bill was over 200 euro for the first month, but fuck that. I went straight over to my computer and looked up as many films on this subject as I could. I sat there and watched Downfall, a German film about the last couple of days of Hitler's life, in that bunker. To say it was fucked up was an understatement. If you haven't seen it get your ass out there and get it. The dude who plays the Hitmiester is unbelievable. Who the fuck directed that and was it mentioned in the foreign language category, criminal if it wasn't?

I then started the clean up in the gaf but after watching that much shit about the fucking Nazis, it was all I could think about. How fucked up it must have been. Like was there no one, in there head, going, 'Eh, what the fuck are we at? I really don't think this is a good buzz.' The level of paranoia and fear must have been fucking insane. A total of 60 million people were killed in the Second World War between 1939 and 1945. How mental is that?

After the clean up, I was told by this film site to take a look at the HBO television movie called 'Conspiracy', starring Kenneth Branagh & Stanley Tucci. I had a bit of trouble finding it but low and behold there it was in 12 bits on You Tube. It was all about the meeting to discuss the last solution. The meeting where 12 mad basterds sit, eating dinner and have the discussion about what is the best and most efficient way to cleanse the Jews. Amazing, shocking and tense movie if ever there was one but a must see.

Anyway, Tara, eventually, got home, I cooked her up some dinner and we watched Arsenal vs Porto. After my food, at about half time, I dozed off on the couch and, let me tell you, I had the most fucked up dreams about the whole fucking thing. I woke up shitting myself. I had a cup of tea and I went to bed. I swear to god, I was having the most outrageous dreams right through the night, I was at the frontline, I was in a concentration camp, I was Hitler. I was even the kid in the photo at the top, it was strange. Lesson of the Day - When you want to stay in all day watching films, remember, mix up the subject matter.

Lughnasa for President

2010-03-06T03:15:00.000-08:00

Lughnasa Festival @ The Bernard Shaw is going to get a mention amongst the nominees for ‘Event of the Year’ at this years Irish Dance Music Awards, how priceless can you get, Event of the Year. I saw everyone else kind of canvassing for their bigger and more successful events on Facebook and I thought to myself, fuck it, I might as well do it. Obviously, a lot of people voted in, fucking nice one lads.

The most hilarious thing is we are in there with the likes of Electric Picnic, Oxegen, Life Festival & Yes Festival to name a few so I would say our chances are pretty high of taking the prize home. I would love to see the odds on Lughnasa making a surprise victory, I must ask are they taking bets and just go on this kill crazy rampage, asking cunts to vote for Lughnasa left, right and centre. What an upset that would be. ‘And the winner is Lughnasa @ the Bernard Shaw?’ Everyone just gives each other a subtle look. Up we pop, onto the stage, sadly Conor L cant get up on the stage coz he would sprained his ankle again. ‘John Reynolds, Dennis Desmond, listen up, y’all better watch out coz there is only room for one phat kat up in this motherfucka, ye going down, bitch.’ Fart into the mic, drop the award, cue the music and head straight for the door. Just leave the ceremony shouting at people. . . . . . . . . . . I really wish I was that cool, the reality of the situation is, it would probably go more like this. ‘And the winner is Lughnasa.’ We would get up, except the award and probably thank my oul’pair for their support, thank Bodytonic for believing in us and maybe even thank the fans . . . . . . . . . I really hope we don’t win.

But in all seriousness, we hope to make Lughnasa bigger and better this year and any exposure for it is savage. We are gonna have to have a sit down over the next month and go over what little pleasures are in store this year. Hopefully my idea of dancing ladies won’t be rejected again this year. It’s an original idea and it would fucking crack. Imagine, you’re sitting there in the Shaw, your high, your locked and you’ve got a pair of bouncing boobies in your face. Think about it – Amazing! We are guaranteed the award next year.

Jaysis, being nominated for awards, my god, I feel like one of those film stars or something, Arnie or one of them fellas.

Vote here - http://www.wix.com/RaymondcRockwell/Slick%20Dj%20Web

Eurovision Fever

2010-03-05T14:49:00.000-08:00

It is a dark day when I am so broke that I am reduced to sitting in on my Friday night and seeking my entertainment in 3 hours of Eurovision memories and nostalgia on tonight’s Eurovision Late Late Show Special. Along with picking the unfortunate act that has to head off and represent us in Norway this April, we are joined by three guest slash judges, 3 Eurovision legends - Dana, Johnny Logan & Marty Whelan. You can imagine how riveting the evening was going to get as they were introduced one by one. I couldn't wait.

What I love about the song for Europe competition is, it's never about who has the best song, or who looks the best or even who dances the best. It's completely different; it's got nothing to even remotely to do with that. It's about which song is the least shite. I don't know who picks the songs at RTE, have they seriously got a panel of deaf people just randomly pulling tunes out of a hat. It is hilarious; they got rid of the Eurostar competition supposedly because you were picking the singer and not the song. . . . . . Okay, I understand why they did that, I agree we should be picking the song, rather than the singer but this is not what is happening here. I ask the people who originally are picking the five tunes that we are choosing from on the night, I simply ask them this. ‘How did you pick these songs?’ Now they will, of course, answer with 'We picked the best 5 songs that were submitted.' and I will answer back, very pissed off, 'So, then, it so happened that the first song featured Eurostar winner Leanne Moore and was written by that journalist with the Tommy Cooper hat, Waters, the second tune was written by some song writer who has had a song in every Eurovision since Johnny Logan won the fucking thing, the 3rd tune so happened to be written & performed by Mikey from Boyzone, the 4th tune was made up of foreign people (nice and pc there, lads) and then, the 5th was sung by ex Eurovision winner, Niamh Kavangh. So, it had nothing to do with the tunes, it had to do with some sort of gimmick attached to the song, didn’t it, you cunts. Do you know how I know that? Do You? Because all the tunes were terrible. Its either this or you are all complete morans. If this isn’t the case, well, then the last thing you should be doing is picking songs for Eurovision because if you put me on there as a sixth contender and my song consisted of me, standing there inserting my fist into my rectum while the mic, by my mouth, picks up my agonising shrieking, that might be considered as the hot favorite. At least people might get a laugh.

First off, the great panel of guests slash judges or, I'm going to go as far as to say, that I reckon they didn't know what they were. Every time Ryan turned to one of them and asked 'So what do you think of that song?' They stared blankly at him and said they didn't want be negative but little did they realise, by saying that they were being very clear about exactly what they thought, they thought they were shite. They kept on going on about how great everyone looked . . . . . . at a song competition, they kept going on about it ‘Well, they look great.’ You were just waiting for them to say ‘Pity about the singing.’

Johnny Logan sat there and spoke about Just Another Year and Hold Me Now over and over and over and over again. He was covered in rhinestones for fuck sake, his shirt was half open, I am not joking, he was quite toe curling. He once boasted that he went platinum in Norway and Iceland. Johnny, when are you leggin it, bro, seriously, you are so treble morto, it is not even funny. I am dying here. What sort of a fucking country am I fucking living in, who are all you cunts that make me embarrassed to be Irish, get your fucking shit together, lads.

And you know what; I'm not taking a shot at the Eurovision. That is so easy, I wouldn't do it. Seriously, I sometimes enjoy it. It is as camp as a row of tents. I love all that shit. I just scratch my head sometimes and I love this little world that all these cunts are living in, they are completely diluted. Dana is insane. She is like something out of Father Ted, well, so is Johnny Logan & Marty Whelan when I think of it but in different episodes. Arther Matthews & Graham Linihan were so on the money with that shit.

Sadly, my colleagues from panto didn't get through but we will be proudly represented by the winner from 1993, Niamh Kavanagh . . . . . . Okay, can I please stop talking about the fucking Eurovision, how the fuck did I get onto this horseshit, Jesus, I am stuck for shit to talk about on this blog.

The Cityspeak Video

2010-03-04T00:59:00.000-08:00

A load of us got together, this time last year, with director, Aoise Tutty, to help shoot the latest Hystereo video for their EP, Cityspeak. Personally, I was blown away by what Aoise did with it. Hope you enjoy!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dy_igPolTfc

http://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewAlbum?id=353977238&v0=9988&ign-mpt=uo=1

Bet of the Week - Get on this Bad Boi

2010-03-03T01:49:00.000-08:00

Okay, Readers, I know you must be thinking 'The last person I'm going to take betting advice off is that fucking ejjit who writes that blog.' but have no fear, I am as confident as a cunt on this one.

'What is it?' you are probably asking. 'What genre of betting are you talking about?' 'Is it football?' 'Is it horse racing?' 'Is it virtual dogs?' No, it is none of these. It is this weekends Oscar’s ceremony.

It is two bets.

The First - A guaranteed win

The Second - A little bit more risqué

Bet Number 1 is just over 3/1 with Paddy Power, it is a 5 way accumulator -

Best Picture - Avatar
Best Director - Katharine Bigalow (Hurt Locker)
Best Actor - Jeff Bridges (Crazy Heart)
Best Supporting Actor - Christoph Waltz (Inglorious Bastards)
Best Supporting Actress - Monique (Precious)

Now that is a safe ass bet and let me tell you why.

First off, Avatar, yes, I know it’s not the favourite at the moment but this is just because Hurt Locker won Best Picture at the Baftas, before that it was the favourite. Also, we have to remember that Avatar is the highest grossing film of all time, beating Titanic by well over a billion dollars, it grossed 2.65 Billion worldwide. 2.65 Billion, that is a ridicules number and the American Film Academy (Oscar) will award it. They are famous for it. Who is the second highest grossing movie - Titanic, they weren't awarding it for its gripping storyline I can tell you, although I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say I really enjoyed Titanic. What is the third highest grossing movie? Lord of the Rings: Return of the King, the most successful trilogy of all time, beating Star Wars. All of these films were given the Best Picture Award. In other eras, Gone With The Wind (1939), Ben Her (1959), Lawrence of Arabia (1962), The Godfather (1972), Rocky (1976), Rain Man (1988). All of these movies were the top grossing movies of their eras and all won the Best Picture Award. So this is gonna take it hands down.

Best Director - Katharine Bigalow, James Cameron's ex-wife, I think is going to take it. The academy has never awarded the Best Director prize to a woman and they have always tried to keep that politically correct angle on everything so this is the year. I think they have been gagging to do this for years but they haven't had the opportunity since Sofia Coppala for Lost in Translation (2003) who was beaten by Peter Jackson for Lord of the Rings and before that it was back in 1993 with Jane Campion for The Piano who was beaten by Speilberg for Schindlers List. They will give it to Katharine Bigalow, she is the perfect female for them, her back log of films says it all - Near Dark, Point Break, Strange Days & K-19. And you know what, after all that, she directed an intelligent film which voices an opinion about today’s sociality and I think they also want to award it, but, of course, cant in the Best Picture.

Best Actor is a dead cert. Jeff Bridges, one of the most loved and respected actors in the world. It is his time. Who is in the category - Jeremy Renner (Hurt Locker), too young, the complete outsider. Morgan Freeman (Invictus), getting this nomination out of respect, the film was okay, easy to watch and to be honest his accent was as shaky as fuck, he won't win. George Clooney (Up In The Air), Won the Supporting Actor prize recently and this film is will be just like Juno, maybe one prize for Screenplay or something but nothing else. And then there is the biggest rival - Colin Firth (A Single Man), won the Bafta last week but he is English and I don't think he has the level of impact that Jeff Bridges has. Jeff Bridges, has been nominated on 4 other occasions and never won. He has a back log of work that spans back to the early 70s, He will take this award.

Supporting Actor - Christoph Waltz, the only thing that is in that piece of shit of a film, he seems to be walking away with everything, in all countries. There is no real competition, maybe Christopher Plummer because of his backlog of work but not good enough in this situation. 100% win for Christoph!

Best Supporting Actress will go to stand up comedian, Monique, where she is doing anything but making you laugh in Precious. I saw it yesterday and it was quality, she is horrifying. She is a monster in it. She fuckin nailed it, the last scene was so good it’s not even funny, it won it for her. She has been, like Christoph Waltz, sweeping the Best Supporting Actress categories worldwide. There is also no competition, the 2 birds from Up In The Air were just not big enough performances, Penelope Cruz only recently won this award for Vicki Christina and the film she is nominated for wasn't received that well and then there is Maggie Gyllenhaal, well, to tell you the truth, she can just fuck off with herself!

Now that is the dead cert of a bet

Bet Number 2 is just a more risky version of the last. It consists of adding the dreaded Best Actress category to the Accumulator which in my opinion could go any way. Fist off, you have the option of Sandra Bullock, the favourite . . . yes, you heard me correctly, the favourite, for the Blind Side. She won the Golden Globe for this but that has been about it. The film is not out here yet but is supposed to be amazing but I can see her winning. She is at 8/13. The second favourite is the academy's golden girl, Meryl Streep at 7/4 for Julia & Julia, she portrays culinary expert, Julia Child. Supposedly the performance is hilarious and, you know what, you can never write off Meryl, she has been nominated 16 times and only won 2 of them, the last one being back in 1982 for Sophie’s Choice so she is due one. Third is 24 year old, Carey Mulligan for An Education who took the Bafta last week but, again like Colin Firth, she is English and An Education wasn't well nominated but at 8/1, I think is a good bet and would bump that accumulator up nicely. But my pick of this bunch is, from Precious, Gabourey Sidibe who is 12/1. She blew my mind in that film, the scene when she is crying to the teacher about her kids and the fact that no one loves her. It fucking killed me. Amazing! Maybe that is me betting with my heart and not my head but I'll be rooting for Gaby all the way. Then there is the complete outsider, Helen Mirren who I reckon hasn't got a hope at 33/1.

Anyway guys go forth and stick a couple of squid on those 2 bad boys and let’s hope it will be a happy Christmas for all of us.

And just one more thing, why the fuck isn't the live show not on television anymore. RTE, you bunch of retards, get your shit together. You know you don't have to compete with Sky Movies with that shit. We are in Ireland, Just get your fucking shit together and maybe we can all watch the Oscars live in peace.

10 Year Reunion - Holy Fuck!

2010-03-02T06:32:00.000-08:00

Okay, I just got asked to be a friend of the 1994-2000 High School 10 Year Reunion Page on Facebook and I feel slightly weirded out by the whole thing. Holy shit, 10 fucking years. It doesn't feel like 10 fucking years, Jesus . . . 10 years. . . . . . . . Well, if I think about it, it kind of does. . . . . . I am a completely different person to the little shit I was when I did my Leaving. I don't even see anyone from school anymore. Bar a couple of lads I see at the weekend, Russell Simmons, Rory Gleason occasionally and recently Oscar Long, other than that I don't see anyone. I wonder if they see each other. Ye know, when you aren't seeing everyone, you start to think that everyone and everything is still the same but just without you. I bet everyone is in the same boat as me, bet you no one sees anyone.

When I think back to my time in school, I have to say, I had a fucking laugh. . . . in a very conservative way of speaking. Conservative is the word that definitely springs to mind. You know when some people say, 'Your school years are the best years of your life.' well I very much dispute that. My life improved considerably sense leaving school, I had a laugh in school but not compared to the splitting your sides laugh, I’m having now. I thought High School was brilliant. I am going to go as far as to say, if I have kids, I am definitely sending them to High School. It was quality. It was more like a summer camp than anything. I learned fuck all academically, no, not that I learned fuck all, that is the wrong way of saying it. I just came to the realisation that half this shit was complete bollix, like the chances of me using calculus in my future life was very slim.

When I left St. Mary’s in Rathfarnham, my primary school, I was sent, originally, to De La Salle, Churchtown, it was one of the schools where most of my class mates were going. Well, it was ether that or Colaiste Eanna, and fuck that for a game of snowballs, I will get into GAA in another write up on another occasion; I don't quite have the time now. Besides I wanted to play rugby which De La Salle was offering so this was my chosen place of education and let me tell you, I fucking hated it. It was shit. It was so completely shit that Columbine situation was on the cards. A complete nightmare for a normal, poshy, middle class boy like myself. Your time was spent either dodging horrible cunts in the corridor, going for a smoke or sitting in a class, listening to some ejjit teacher who was obviously either a 3 steps away from being a convicted paedophile or 12 steps away from being a full blown alcoholic and the only thing you can think about is Wesley, this coming Friday, which was the only place in your life at that time, where you could even remotely try and feel up a bird. Then you had some rugby coach giving you shit for missing training. Training for what, I ask you? De La Salle were one of those teams that trained their balls off all year, full of passion and pride, awaiting the Junior & Senior Cup and some how were lucky enough to be drawn Rock in the first round every year, 40 - 0, see youse later, lads, youse are shit.

Fuck that, I said to myself. I got my Junior Cert, packed my bags and got ass to The High School in Rathgar.

And let me tell you, it was like a breath of fresh air. No one else in the place realised it but me. They didn't know how easy they had had it. Instead of dodgy cunts in the corridors waiting to give you slaps, it was replaced by a load of sound cunts who wanted to have a chat while you went for a smoke in a clean jacks. Instead of Nazi teachers who still used corporal punishment, it was replaced with bang-on, intelligent educators that actually gave a fuck about you, well, in some cases that is and instead of dreaming about Wesley at the back of some class, well, that was replaced with a load of tasty, protestant birds sitting beside you, waiting to rip your cloths off . . . . . . . well, maybe not rip my cloths off but you get the idea. It would be an understatement if I said life was getting better.

It is going to be very interesting to see how everyone looks, everyone that little bit fatter and balder. Everyone with their brilliant jobs and their slick cars. People talking about their kids and their wife’s. Jesus, I am gonna be talking some serious bullshit that night I can tell you.

I just got an old year book out, fucking hell; there are a lot of cunts I haven't seen in years. I bet you it will be the most toe-curlingly boring affair on the planet. I will go in there looking to see what all these lads are at but I'll just bee-line it for the lads I know, with one eye on the door.

I wonder what it is, aswell, what will happen at this thing. I have an image of this horribly, over organised wine reception in the school then a meal in the old canteen or the assembly hall, then down to the 108 to have a few scoops for old time’s sake, Oh Jesus that would be hellish!

Cumfy As Fuck

2010-02-28T04:45:00.000-08:00

I swear to God, I could not feel any more comfortable if I tried. I just woke up there at 8 beside Tara on our massive L-shaped couch, which is basically the size of a bed. Tara must of gone into our bedroom during the night and got our amazingly embracing duvet (15 togs, thank you very much, that’s, like, the highest level of togage.). I feel that slightly pleasant hangover, not the kind with headache or anything but hungry, thirsty, stretchy, funky kind of hangover. I checked the time and I immediately remembered that Match of the Day rerun is on, fucking savaushta!

I get to watch Man City take giant shit on John Terry, Chelsea and all that support them. I'm not going to get into the booing of Wayne Bridge; I will actually fuck my laptop across the room if I do. Also if you back to my tip for Arsenal to win the league, it is not looking to bad now. A week ago, they were 10/1 and now, 11/4. They are 3 points off the top.

As Match of the Day ends, I set my sights firmly on the Coronation Street omnibus; this Gail story is fucking savage. It wasn't on for an hour so I nip over to Centra to get some brecky rolls for myself and Tara, well, the makings of two brecky rolls. The people in charge of making rolls couldn't be worse at making rolls, if I could tell all of them what career not to do, it would definitely be within the sandwich arrangement industry. . . . . . . . . . I think I'm being a bit harsh with them. It's just I have an extremely high standards when it comes the construct of a mouth watering sub.

As I get home, I find Tara still on the couch breaking her shits laughing to herself. 'What are you laughing at, ye mad yoke?' I say. 'Nothing,' she says, 'It's just I'm so fucking cumfy.'

I make up two of the tastiest motherfuckers you ever likely to put into your mouth, the tea is on the money as well, want to know my secret - 2 tea bags, trust me. And as the Corrie theme tune starts, I am back under the duvet with my roll, my cupa and my bird who is also nibbling away.

Gail is fucked, the situation is like this. She and her new husband head off to Cornwall on a lovely, Valentine’s Day weekend. The husband, Joe, is up to his tits in debt and he doesn't have many options when it comes to clearing it so he says to Gail that he is going to fake his own death. He will go out onto the lake in his boat, abandon the boat in a dingy, Gail is to report him missing and he won't be found, they collect on the insurance. Gail, of course, freaks and tells him he's a sap but he just jumps onto his boat anyway, leaving Gail weeping on the river bank.

Jesus, she seriously cannot get a fucking break when it comes to getting a husband. The first guy, was constantly doing the dirt on her and then eventually gets murdered by a mugger, the second guy, Martin, if memory serves me well, I believe he was dipping his wick in other peoples oils, and then there is the third husband, Richard, who ended up being a psychopathic killer, who not only claimed several characters on the show but he also drove Gail and the whole family into a fucking canal and now there is this cunt.

Anyway, Joe, who Tara is convinced the skin on his face is similar to that of foreskin, is in the middle of abandoning the boat, and the fecki ejjit slips, hits his head and drowns. So Gail, unbeknownst to her he is dead, decides to not play along, gets her son, David, to come out, find the boat on the lake and get her home. They still think Joe is alive and that he will have to come home when he realises no one has reported him missing. They tell everyone on the street including his daughter that he got work out by the lake and that he won't be home for a few weeks. 2 weeks go by and what happens but Joe's body starts to floating to the surface of the lake and, of course, is found and reported. Gail and David are told by the police and all shit breaks loose, Gail tells the cops the truth and they are very suspect about the whole thing. The actors that are playing the 2 detectives are gas, they look like they are about to get locked, glass someone and head to The Den to scream racist chants at their opposition.

I then kind of pass out for about a half an hour, just because I am that comfy. I wake with realisation that the Spurs - Everton game is about to start. With a lovely chuff, I flick to ESPN. Tara goes, 'If I wasn't so fuckin comfy, I would deck you for that quack.' It doesn't matter anyway, my farts for some reason these days don't smell. They are loud but not smelly.

Aw, The Carling Cup is after it as well, savage. I'm gonna go back to my oul'pairs for a roast at about 6 and to finish it off, the Real Sounds thing in the Shaw. Oh my God, I am love loving this shit. Get in there!

Wayne Bridge - Gent

2010-02-25T16:51:00.000-08:00

The final nail in the Wayne Bridge / John Terry coffin has hopefully been hammered as Wayne Bridge announces his retirement from international duty today. He is stepping back from the England World Cup campaign this June, and that is that.

For those of you that have been living on the moon for the last 3 weeks, the situation is this - Wayne Bridge, former Chelsea & England left back, was sold to Man City from Chelsea last summer. In his short absence, John Terry indulges in an affair with Bridge's girlfriend and mother to his child.

Some how this news was made public, the girlfriend is, of course, taken under the wing of publicist and known degenerate, Max Clifford, I'm sure her biography will be out before the end of this summer. John Terry is stripped of the England captaincy by Fabio Cappelo and heads off with the wife to try and rebuild their relationship, whatever, we don't care.

Mean while Wayne Bridge is left at home in Manchester and what does he do, writes a brief press release, not a press conference, no photographers, no journalists, just a simple press release stating that he wants this to be left alone and private and that all he cares about is the welfare of his son.

Now, a week later, Ashley Cole goes down with an ankle injury. He is out for the next 4 months which means he will not have many games leading up to the World Cup, if he is even fit enough to play and guess who the second string left back is, that’s right - Wayne Bridge. He would have to stand beside John Terry again as a team mate, he would have to celebrate with him when ever they won, he would have to work extremely close with him if he wanted the England defence to stay organised, all while the only thing that is going through his head is 'This guy fucked my girlfriend.' . . . . I can tell you right now, if I was in the same room with the person that I openly knew, fucked my girlfriend, I'm sorry, it would not be pretty. Now times that by 70,000 people staring at your every move in a stadium, 1 Billion people watching world wide in their homes and the worlds press waiting for you or Terry to even look at one another.

Fuck that.

But not only that, as he said in his letter of retirement, he speaks with a tone of self sacrifice, he knows that his or John Terry's presence at the World Cup could divert attention from what is really important - winning the World Cup, he feels that it could create a rift within the team, distracting the players while they should focusing at the job at hand. and with that, he declines his position on the team. He knows how good a player John Terry is and how important he is to the England set up so he steps back. He wants England to have the best opportunity at winning this World Cup to a point that he is willing to sacrifice probably what he has been dreaming about his whole life.

Wayne Bridge - you have sacrificed so much to help England on their way to winning the World Cup, you did it with integrity, you did it without self gain and you did it with class. I applaud you and I think only good things can happen to people with that level of character.

I Know What I'm Doing This Friday

2010-02-24T05:25:00.000-08:00

As I said in other write-ups, I am finding it very hard these days to get motivated to actually go out to nightclubs anymore. There has to be a very substantial reason to go out and the only reason that would have that level of substance would be to see a particular act. The days of going out just to get locked in an every day club with nothing of any real importance on in the club are few and far between to tell you the truth. Maybe its because I'm broke and I'm in the mind set that if I’m gonna go out, get mangled and spend loads of money, its got to be fuckin worth it. And have I got a night out that is worth it . . . . Yes, I do. If anyone is going out this weekend, you've got to head to Night Flight @ The Button Factory this Friday for one of my personnel favourite DJs, Maurice Fulton.

If anyone was lucky to be at Nicky Siano at Night Flight last summer, let me tell you the atmosphere will be something similar, a lot more housie but the place will be going just as ape shit. . . . . .and it is fucking 8 squid before 12 if you say Downtown Sounds at the door. What a fucking bargain? You are not gonna get a better deal than that anywhere else in Dublin.

I first saw this guy down in Ri-Ra years ago when Downtown Sounds were running the Friday night (of course, they went on to start Night Flight with Space Camp & Winter Olympics) and if memory serves me correct, the cunt played for about 3 and a half hours and the place was going off, Up there with one of my favourite gigs. Just to get an idea of the kind of shit you’re likely to hear on Friday, this is a remix he did of the Simian Mobile Disco track - Cruel Intentions, check this bad boy out.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GZ4XOOnVf6k

If you like that, here is a classic that I believe he had a vital hand in producing which I hope will feature on Friday, cheesy as fuck, here is Gypsy woman

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_KztNIg4cvE&feature=fvst

I remember finishing work in the Gaiety all those years ago, I was fucking wrecked, I had just done a 12 hour get-out and I got dragged up to Ri Ra by Aaron. We put 2 lil fellas into us and off we popped through the night like a pair of mad cunts ready to dance our little hearts out. What a night! I can’t wait for this Friday, it is gonna be savage. . . . . . . . . . Anyone got any little fellas.

And The Oscar Goes To . . . . . . I Don't Have A Clue Because I've Seen Hardly Any Of Them

2010-02-23T00:32:00.000-08:00

With the run up to the Oscars well under way, the Baftas, Iftas and the Golden Globes are done and dusted and we can all see who the ones to beat are at this year’s ceremony on March 7th. But one thing I love doing is checking out as many of the nominees as I can in the month or two running up to it and when I think about I have seriously slacked on my cinema going this year and now that I have fuck all to be doing with myself, waiting for that very silent phone to ring, I cant wait to get stuck into this years nominees.

First on the list is, of course, Avatar, and, I know, this is something that has to be seen in a cinema, the 3-D experience and all that, no downloading and watching it on your computer, get your arse off the couch and get yourself to the pictures. But you know what? I haven't been that pushed. I'm defo gonna go over the next 2 weeks but I have kind of made my mind up about it already, I know, I know, I hate doing that. Even for the fact that everyone I know is saying its fucking savage and that I have to see it. I was at least expecting 1 or 2 people to think its shite, some of my mates are very hard to impress and they all seemed to have loved it. It has a kind of a Titanic bang off it.

Number 2, I am really going to have to make myself watch for the simple fact that I cant handle Sandra Bullock but her movie, the ranked outsider for Best Picture at 125/1, The Blind Side, and its also up for Best Actress for herself and not only is she nominated but she is the fucking favourite at 8/13, Best Actress! I never thought I'd see the day. She was okay in that film Crash that weirdly won a couple of years ago but that is about it, just go onto her Imdb page, it is not a pretty sight. The weirdest part about all of this is, I think the reason she is the favourite is the fact that she won the Golden Globe in January but she won that for The Proposal, don’t ask me how but she did. This is a performance I have got to see, I am very suspect, the best film that bird ever made was Demolition Man for fuck sake.

The third movie is a film that everyone said is absolutely amazing, I awaited its release for a couple of months but due to Panto commitments, I never had the time. District 9 is up for 4 awards, Best Picture, Best Original Screenplay and 2 other technical award, not sure which ones, (I presume visual effects, from what I have seen from the trailers, its got to be the favourite, fuck Avatar, it looks like the intro to a computer game). But its out on DVD so I think this is the road I'm gonna go down today. I can’t wait, a nice apartheid metaphor that involves 10 foot aliens before lunch, sound quality.

The fourth movie is An Education . . . . . . . . if I stumble upon it somewhere on the internet, I might give it a gander. . . . . Actually fuck that, I've just flushed my so called credibility down the preverbal jacks. I love Alfred Molina, I met him years ago when he was in a play with my oul'one, and let me tell you, he was fucking quality in it. Fred, if you are reading this, I was rooting for you. Stanley Tucci wasn't that good in The Lovely Bones, it should of been you. My little tip, if you are looking for an outsider to stick 2 euro on, An Education at 66/1 would be a nice one, it reeks of Oscar movie . . . . . . . who am I kidding, you might as well flush that 2 euro down the drain. . . . . . . . . . . How can you flush something down the drain, you flush things down the toilet, not the drain.

I checked out the new favourite to take the Best Picture yesterday, The Hurt Locker, which knocked Avatar from its perch after sweeping the Baftas and I loved it. I still don't see it taking the Best Picture prize though. It's up for a whopping total of nine awards, Best Picture, Best Director for Kathrine Bigalow, James Cameron's ex-wife, who I am a pretty sure will take it, people have been going on about the fact that the academy have never awarded a woman for directing and this is the perfect opportunity. She is 2/7 to win - not even worth the bet. Also up is the leading man, Jeremy Renner, who to date has been just a supporting actor in stuff like SWAT, North Country and 28 Weeks Later where he always put up a solid show but now, he has defo cemented himself, I think, as a leading man but as the youngster of the group, he is a major outsider at 18/1. The film is also up for 2other big one, Original Writing and Score which I think Hurt Locker could be decent a contender but will probably loose out to the favourite which is the first animated film to be up for Best Picture since Beauty & The Beast, UP.

I think UP will have to be on my list, believe it or not, I've never been a major fan of those Pixar style movies. People have been going on and on about them for the last ten years and I have never really understood the fascination. I have watched them and enjoyed them but that is it. Like when people were going mad that Toy Story 2 wasn't nominated all those years ago, I was scratching my head, going 'What?' but this UP movie has been get ridicules reviews, anyone I know who has seen it, said its one of their favourite films of the last couple of years and now, the Oscar nomination, I have to have a look.

But onto a nominee that I got to checkout that is up for Best Picture - Inglorious Bastard, now, where do I start? How did this piece of shite get nominated? Not even if the academy extended the amount of nominees in the Best Picture category to 20, it shouldn't be in there. What a pile of my arse. I remember going to it and really rooting for it, I couldn’t wait. We had that amazing opening scene between Supporting Actor favourite, Christoph Waltz (who is a dead cert at 1/25) and that French actor, Denis Menochet (who was equally as deadly) then shite for about an hour until Michael Fassbender comes along. We then have that quite good scene in the bar where everyone gets milled out of it, then shite, absolute shite until the end. The name of the film was Inglorious Bastards and the Inglorious Bastard had probably about 40 lines in total between them all throughout the whole movie and Brad Pitt had 35 of them. The short time that Brad Pitt, that big cunt who directed Hostel and all the other little wankers were on screen, they actually made me feel sorry for the Nazis, that is a very hard thing to do and I'm not even going to go into the other story line about the girl in the cinema and nazi solider film star because I might actually fallasleeeeeeeeeeeeee jnunfvju7eimoewm####p--ij2eor;;tr.h..t........Oh my god I actually fell asleep on the keyboard just there. Fucking hell, how did it get in there? When you have stuff like The Road & Let The Right One In not even getting mentioned.

Precious: Based on the Novel 'Push' by Sapphire is a must on my list over the next week but I am just terrified of it. I know for a fact that to say that it will be a heart breaker will be the biggest understatement in the world. I haven't met that many people who have seen it but my mate, Coffey, said it was savage so that is definite download.

The other 2 Best Picture nominees that I’m gonna stick in the download category for the week, just for the fact that I’m as broke as a joke, is Up In The Air, which I’m really looking forward to. I haven't heard many mates going on about it but I thought Juno was slick, well, your one in it was kind of wrecking my head by the end of it, but all in all, I liked it so Up In The Air will be a sure bet on the list for the coming week. The other is the one movie in the Best Picture Category that I reckon has absolutely no chance of winning. I wouldn't bet on A Serious Man if you paid me . . . . . well, I probably would because you’re paying me to do it so once the bet is less than what you’re paying me I can see it being well worth my while but other than that, I wouldn't go near it. The small amount of people I know who have seen it, kind of said it was alright . . . okay . . . good . . . . grand. Now that doesn't sound like a Coen's movie to me. The Coen's, they are the reason why I'm gonna check out this movie but I wouldn't be surprised if this is the one I forget to watch.

But their we have it, there is my list 'But stop, Jack. There are a few others in other categories that you will have to see.' Yeah, like what? . . . . . Crazy Heart which I have already renamed as The Wrestler with country music . . . . Invictus, which I saw and found to be very very pleasant. A very easy going movie about Nelsen Mandela in the most easy going part of his life, why they did that? I will tell you why, because Morgan Freeman is too old to play him in any other era of his life. It should get nothing in this year’s ceremony. But the one other movie that I am rooting for all the way, which is only up for the one award, Best Adapted Screenplay. Come on Armando Iannucci for In The Loop. Legend!

So lets go, I have my list of Motion Pictures, I think I’m gonna start with 'Up In The Air', yeah, that looks like a good place to start.

I'm Grand

2010-02-19T00:48:00.000-08:00

What a fucking joke, the doctor laughed at me. As soon as I said the words 'lung cancer', he broke his shits laughing. As he was examining me he was giggling in my face. I felt like a dickhead. Isn’t this what you’re supposed to do when you feel something is wrong with you? Isn’t this what they tell you to do on Ireland AM when ever you feel like shit. . . . . . . . . . . Okay I deserve to be laughed. But, anyway, it ended not being cancer, it had nothing even remotely to do with cancer at all. All it was was a mild form of Bronchitis and Asthma and that I cut the inside of my throat coughing. I was literally ten minutes in the office, a quick examination, check the chest, check the mouth, check the ear and sent on my way with a proscription in my hand, that will 55 bills, adios amigo!

I ended up heading up to the chemist to get my shit and it ends up costing ninety fucking squid. I have to head back out to my oul'fella who is chilling the car waiting for me, still pissed off coz he can get the internet working on his relic of a laptop, you should see this thing, its got Windows 98 and you need a wireless card to put into the thing to get it going, which he just bought and can't get working. He sorts problem and we head home and he proceeds to lets rip down the phone at some poor unfortunate customer service person from NTL probably taking it out on him for the fact that he just shelled out for me. 'Yes, but I already did that, I don't know why you don't make it more simple . . . . . . . . . Yes . . . . . yes . . . . . . Yeah, I. . . Have . . . already done that . . . and it isn’t working. Which one is the modem?' Myself and my brother, Max, look on in amusement.

So 145 yo yos and off I go, I got to stop freaking out, I am the biggest hypochondriac on the planet but, fuck it, at least I'm aware of shit going wrong with me. I don't just ignore it, when it happens for real, I can guarantee I’ll catch what ever it is in time. Although, how the fuck does he know there is nothing wrong with me if he doesn't give a blood test, yeah, fucking hell, he didn’t even check my blood pressure, Jesus! What if. . . . . . . . . . . I got to get a grip. Has anyone got a smoke.

Now that I read back the post I put up yesterday, it is quite mental how fucking freaked out I got. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I'm turning 29 today . . . . . . . . 29, one more year and that’s the twenties gone. Gone. I don't know why I have an issue with age, maybe it’s for the simple fact that I don't have my shit together yet and I always said that I would have my shit together by the time I was 30. I think everyone has that milestone in their heads that 30 is the age where you get some sense, you are officially an adult, you change your mentality all of a sudden, you traditionally start to think very seriously about shit like kids, career and other stuff that you weren't really thinking about before or maybe it's a fear of actually becoming an adult, a fear of arriving at an age where you remember your oul'pair being that age and they were a lot more together than you are now, a fear at becoming that bloke at sessions that everybody is pointing at and saying 'Who brought the oul'fella?'

Remember those haggard oul'lads that occasionally turned up at parties and at first everyone is trying to be sound to them but it always ended the same way, everyone ripping the piss out of him. There is nothing that will anger me more, than if I end up back at some cunts gaf, I'm dancing in the kitchen, I'm 45, I've got a bottle of bucky and nicely madge and there is a load of little wankers giving it the fucking big boy shit, taking the piss out of me. . . . . . .I can see myself getting very irritated in my old age, I'm already getting wound up by young people. Whenever I hear them being load and horrible, even walking down the street, I just want to walk up and go - 'Shhhhhhhhhh! Just stop, Just stop talking.'

But when I say your mentality changes, it does, slowly. I used to be hell bent on the session. Without fail, I would be there representing myself with proud gurn, my sweaty head held high, talking shite for about 60 hours a weekend. Any word of a decent session, I would be there. Now, I just couldn't be arsed half the time. Don't get me wrong I'm not turning Amish or anything but I'm changing or maybe the sessions are changing, they just aren't as good. Yeah, fuck that, it has got nothing to do with me, there is very little crack anymore that’s the problem, all you cunts that are throwing these parties, come on; get your fucking act together. Take it from this oul'fella on his birthday - 'Ye's haven't a clue!'