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Monday, January 16, 2006

THE WEEK I LEARNED OF RONAN’S PAIN.

Hi folks. Well, I’ve a week of data entry, and that, I’m pleased to say, is enough. I’m getting out and taking the tattered remains of my soul with me.
One week.
Ronan’s been here A YEAR AND A HALF. RONAN. WHO AS ANYONE WILL TELL YOU HAS THE MAKINGS OF A CRIMINAL MASTERMIND. So, I’m taking him with me. He’s handing his notice in on Monday.
Nice enough folks, though. Or at least the seem nice when I say hi to them in the morning and bye in the evening, and maybe one or two ‘you wanna brew?’s in between. It’s in a posh end of D4 called Donnybrook, which is nice, and supposedly half an hour’s walk from Rathmines, where I’m stopping. I say supposedly because I can find my way pretty easy in the morning, but each evening I end up getting lost somewhere between two well defined points and walk around narrowing concentric circles for an extra hour or so. I haven’t decided if this is because in the evenings it’s dark, or because I’m still recovering from the all the soul destroying.

I start a new job at UCD, furnishing freshers with their new cards, on Tuesday. Temporary again, of course, I’m king of the road these days…

Aside from all that shit, I’ve done a few reviews; I’ve got to the stage where I can post them to folks I know, but haven’t brought myself to send them to anyone who might give me a job. The pub jobs CV distribution has been disappointing though. After some early interest, not one of the bastards have gotten back to me yet.
Went to warm Paddy’s new house there last night, which is a kickass condo thingy on the northside. He shares it with a dead nice lass called Nicky from Tipp. She shares his love of 24, George RR Martin and all things cool. I’m sure they’ll make a charming (plationic housematey) couple. The party itself was I proper good laff- it’s nice to put faces to all these names I’ve heard. They is good people. Mo, who had been drinking before he got there- got on a bus, then lost, then picked up randomly by paddy who was coming from collecting ronan, arrived, chuckled a bit, then about 2 or so said ‘I want to go home’. ‘Okay', I said, 'let me finish me wine’ and I’d scarcely got my glass to my lips before he’d curled up in a little ball like a drool-encrusted hedgehog and went to sleep, prompting Nicky to go ‘Awwww…. Do you want a bed Mo?’ to which he nodded and went off to bed downstairs. He had the right idea. I sat around till 7am when the only place I could find that wasn’t made of cement was sitting upright next to Biggar where I bedded down for the night.
Despite this I didn’t feel as shit as I should’ve today. Thank Christ either I’ve found a level of debauchery I feel I can manage, or my body chemistry has finally readjusted.

Fucking missed the last Lost.
Fucking saw ‘My Name is Earl’. Kick fucking A. How long before a certain Mr. Smith jumps in there for a guest writer/director, eh?

Before I go I'm gonna give a quick shout out to Paula '2 times' Stewart. Buh!

Aido ‘To Donnybrook… And Beyond’ Potato.

Comments:
Tis 'Stuart' numskull!
Ax
 
Glad your back, all sounds good
Jordon
 
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