New fussball team. Gypsy F.C. Giddy up. Quality team. Currently vying for a spot with a man who has captained the English fussball team. And another chap who has won the World Cup. Seriously. Obviously they too were impressed with my Collingwood and Crowley winning days. Hoviously. Anyways. Fun team to play on. First game tonight. First win tonight. Wuu duu. Gypo on. Unfortunately. Now. I. Am. Goosed. Beyond belief, kind of goosed. Hottest day in creation today in L-Hey. Ran through to the night. Hot as funk. Heat was hot. Now has me rambling. Go on the exhaustion. Drivel me this. Anyways, a lot of Bananarmama cocktails were sweated out. Booze oozed. Merkatinis. Ye whures! And now. Too goosed to finish off my original gibber blogaruu. All aboot Smurfs too. Mighty gibber. Tomorrow. Runner up. Horse up this article which appeared in the Sunday Independent a few weeks ago. Only realised today it was online. Sweet Lord, dragging this out. Should really know by now when to just sto… Continue Reading »
Category Archives: Writing
Sea! No Hangover…
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Woke up. Stood up. Swaying. Big time. Bounced off one wall. Slid into the bathroom. Drunk? Eh. Hungover? No. Should be. Thankfully. Not in the slightest. Just a tad tired. Drink all the fruity Merlins, Jerk and Merkatinis cocktails that I can come up with. Hangovers don’t exist in the land I’m in now. Figured that out after the first 3 days. No Fear to fear here. Plain sailing. In the land of the sea. Left my brain back at the port. Hangover off! Climb the spiraling stairs from my cabin. Hey hup. Fresh fruit platter me up. Brunch on. Stewardeses scurrying aboot. Smiling while I order. Cursing me with their eyes at my order. Good old healthy eating. Eat what you have to. So you can drink what you want. Wrap it all up with a please and danke. Continue Reading »
Buy My Soul!
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Monday was a mighty day. Ridiculous. Raised the limbo of mightiness. On every level. Honestly. One of the randumbest days I’ve had ever. Buckets of fun. Buckets of no way. Buckets and buckets of funking nuts. More nuts. And then even more nuts. All fun and games. Until I got punched. In the buttock. And then in the face. Some laugh! Continue Reading »
Sabotage Hayes
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Tea. Quite the Magic potion. Like any Irish man, woman, child, ape, leprechaun, dancer, I enjoy a cup of tea. About ten times a day. Can’t beat a cup. Or spreading the word about the magical qualities of it. However, as an Irish bape/man boy in America, I am fully aware that tea bags are not as readily available as back home. Proper ones, at least. Which is why bags of tea bags are constantly smuggled over the border by little green men on a daily basis. Irish gold. All of which makes offering tea to folk in my vicinity when I go to make a cup, an entirely polite gesture. Willing, hoping, prompting them to say no. As I know what will happen. 9 times out of 10. American folk like to try new things. Mostly. So, being asked by an Irish ape if they want an Irish cup of tea, means that they will, more often than not, say yes. As if it is a little treat. If crystal meth was seen as a jovial Irish thing, I am pretty sure people would say yes just as easily. Seriously. Try it. Continue Reading »
Y’s Up. Owl On.
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One week ago, I realised two things. One. My bedroom is the quietest place ever created. My pillow screams at me. That kind of quiet. Too quiet to sleep. That kind of quiet. Tough life, I know. Seriously though. Come sleep in my bed. The quietness is deafening. Tough life. Moving on. Secondly. I’ve slipped. Fallen. Into a routine. Step by step. Particularly mornings. Wake up. Get out of bed. Right side. Literally. Walk around my bed. Over to my laptop. Turn it on. Open the blinds. Open the window. Fix my bed. Pick up my laptop. Go to the bathroom. Surf. Hotmail. BBC Football. Gmail. Blog. Facebook. Twitter. Kitchen. Bowl. Porridge. Microwave. Drink some water. Drink some more. Ding. Porridge. Coffee. Chug. Water. Brush my teeth. Clothes on. And away I go. Continue Reading »
Flash Gordon
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Let’s pretend today’s Monday. Ok. Where was I… oh yeah, flashbacks have been flooding in all day. Flashes of all kinds. Time to fill in the blanks. Funny old weekend. Getting back on track. Good chunk of buddies giddied up to Coachella for the weekend. Back to my solo Joe galavanting. Turned out a treat. Not sure exactly why. I do know there shall be more solo Joe in the future though. Weekend of DJigging. More DJigs the merrier. Good for the soul. White abyss needs to be filled up. Either that. Or my glass just keeps on being refilled. DJig on. Even if it does lead me down paths full of nuts and nutters. Continue Reading »
Enough Talk, More Writing! 
