And I’m doubly buggered, because I’m stuck for an explanation. How about a good excuse then? Nope, don’t have one of those either. OK, how about a quick, after the event rationalisation? Well, at least I didn’t make an arse of myself by getting into a long drunken rant about Irish rebel songs being nothing more than bigotry set to music. Ask FX Holden. He knows I can get quite – well, bigoted – once I get onto the subject of Irish music.
And if I hadn’t started in on the Irish rebel music, or the current colour of the family jewels, I’d have done a lot of skiting about how I’ve been offered a place in that Master of Arts course I want to do next year. Bloody boring prospect for everyone but me, that.
Monday, December 11, 2006
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4 comments:
Hey, congratulations!
I piked too. Exhausted, had to crawl into my cave.
Cast Iron Balcony
Pity you didn't show and start on your (by now tired) monologue on irish music, politics,and such - its always character building, and a refreshing change, for us lowly paddies to be instructed by those of english lineage about the true meaning of our music and our failings.
All the more sorrow at your non show as I was in a robust frame of mind (so I'm informed by barista)mainly due to having been forced to imbibe several (or more) pints of guinness whilst waiting on my pat malone, having bagsed a suitable lone table, prior to the arrival of the great unwashed blog hoi-polloi.
Then when they tramped in like browns cows, I was manouvered into listening to after grog tones pontificating on cricket and other sports whilst being sat next to by Paul "Gen XYZ" Watson who proceeded to inspect me closely for any signs of incipient boomerisms.
Tones and others cunningly plied me with more drinks as the night wore on in a doomed attempt to best me in intelligence, wit, charm and logic. I need hardly mention they failed.
Oh friggin' hell, The continuing spamination of me blog is bloody depressin'
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