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
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