Tip Of The Night. Top Of The Morn!

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Better late than never. My top songs of the blogaruu from 2010. Not that they were released in 2010. Just that I used them at some stage in the blog. Either I really like the song. Or. I am a fan of the story that went along with it. So.. Song. Which blogaruu. And a reason why as well. Not sure how many. Short and sweet!

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Shee Shuu. Ahem… The Sexth Sense.

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Girls Just Wanna Have Fun – Starfunker

‎’As I threw her to the ground her buxom bounced with delight, so I gently nudged her face with my foot, leaving her gasp for more…’ Opening line of my new romance novel. The one which I am writing to tie over the folk who want to read more aboot… Schex. Shee shuu. Ahem. Whatever it is that you may call it. Something which is distinctly lacking from the blogaruu. Details, at least. Innuendos might be bouncing off the walls. But details have been stripped bare. Stark. Naked. Teasing. All talk. Little action. (Is this some sort of an innuendo by my sub-brain?! Perhaps. If so… Horrendous! Moving on!) Perhaps it is an Irish thing. Perhaps it was initially so not to look like an ape. Perhaps it was realising your parents, grandparents, younger cousins and all other folk would start to read about your adventures. Perhaps it was out of pure and utter respect for the other parties involved. Ahum. Perhaps all of the above! Perhaps. Who knows. Well. I do. But moving on.

Actually. Staying put. Perhaps I should’ve included more in the book. Perhaps there should’ve been less. Perhaps one did not think that others wanted to read aboot that. Perhaps sex does sell. Perhaps we wait and see what book two holds. Duu. Although perhaps I should set up an alternative blogaruu that tells purely of adventures in that world. Perhaps. Especially as L-Hey seems to be the most sexed up place which has ever existed. Possessing the libido of an 18 year old dude mixed with a 30 year old lady. If it were an animal, its name would be Roger. Highly revved-up engine. Not only that but perhaps all of this is then in turn coupled with the perhaps that you have an odd sense… Ever read the book Blink? When you just know something straight away but you’re not sure how. But you know. You? No? Yes? Kind of the same. Let’s just call it… The Sexth Sense!?! Continue Reading »

Tweeting Out Man!

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Driving Home From The Beach (The Feeling Of) – Teen Daze

Past few days have been spent galavanting aboot good old San Fran! Forgot how mighty it is up here. Not quite up there with L-Hey but still dancing on in her own way. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s actually a city with streets that have people and tall buildings which run parallel to other streets that are filled with more buildings and people who are all scurrying around by foot and there’s a centre to the city which is actually downtown and all this is walkable or tram-able and it’s a city! As opposed to a sprawled barren desert. Which does have streets. But the good ones are all about a 5 minute drive from each other. And go on for miles. And all the good stuff is spread out over those miles along these streets. So you can only really drive. Which means you then just spend a lot of your time sitting in traffic. Which is fun. I suppose. But a city buzz does make a nice change.

Although the fact that all the folk I know in San Fran are so sound and I haven’t seen them in so long might be more of the reason why it is so mighty here. Ridiculously sound. Go on the Irish! Go on the people understanding my accent! Go on the endless levels of boozing on! Go on the use of ‘sch’ instead of just ‘s’‘Schome nice pint of Schtella. Divil a bit.’ Whatever divil a bit actually means (Anyone?). Go on the endless cups of tea! Chats about tea! Go on the Irish-ness! Reason I’m up in San Fran was to go to my cousin’s wedding. Mighty night, to be true. Day after. Maybe the day after that too. Might has been flowing! An added reason for the trip is so I can get some writing done. Well actually, some reading first, and then some writing. Read. And. Write. Dance. On. Plan. On. Reading part has been going well. Ish. Wuu! Writing part has been… Well… Tut… Honestly… I have a problem. Another, says you. Divil a bit, says an Irish man. Problem must stop. Ruining me. Need help. Starting to Tweet the funk out man!! Continue Reading »

Vaseline. Alley. Riding. Carrots.

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Not too sure what a typical Valentine’s Day consists of… Bed. Breakfast. Chocolates. Flowers. Wining. Dining. Whining. Drunk. Lingerie. Hip hip hooray? Not too sure. Mine was similar enough to that. Ish. Kind of. Not at all. More like a typical Sunday. Back in the pre-cave days. Hand bags. Man bags. Russian. Riding. Chinese. Haggling. Dancing. Carrots. Juice. Mexican. Flowers. Bouncing. Drag. Puff. Vaseline. And. An. Alley. Typical enough. Continue Reading »

Mumbling, Fumbling, Bumbling Mess

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Rambling on from the previous blogaruu. Have you ever thought you were going to blow your own mind? On Saturday, I think I tried my best. Not really sure why so. Now that I think about it, bit of a joke. Decision making seems to do it at the moment. Brain being torn one way or the other. Polar bears running free. Both choices are the right choice. Both are the wrong choice. Polar opposite reasoning. Unable then to make a choice. Day before the wedding. Slight running around like a headless chicken. Day after the wedding. Brood. Flock. Peep. Full on bucket of chicken. Pail full of hungover dumbness. Painful. Continue Reading »

Which? Shuu!

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As far as weekends go, this one has been pretty different. Break from the abnorm. Different location. San Fran. Different buzz. Cousin’s wedding. Different group. All Irish. Almost. All family. Almost. Big crowd made the trip from Irland. Smugglers. Bags of tea. Bottles of fake tan. Hello old foe. Different. Mighty. My parents were over. First time boozing with my younger sister. First time experiencing random guys not knowing it was my younger sister. Which was different. Different different. First time seeing the power of ‘I Gotta A Feeling’. Cult like. All ages. Breaking down barriers. Stampede to the dance floor. Drunk. Sober. Young. Old. Dance on! Or. Stand at the bar. Watch them dance. Both pretty Irish. Continue Reading »