Goosaruu’d. Duckaduu’d.

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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 »

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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 »