Sunday, December 23, 2007
Now, I'm pretty sure Pat Ingoldsby is not a WMD waving megalomaniac who requires look-a-likes parading around Dublin just in case an elite division of the US rangers decides to launch a Scud shot at him from Supermacs, but the fact still remains: I saw him at two places at once today. It was early, I was sober and the only Damp Coke I'd taken was from a 500ml contour bottle, so I can only surmise that I had travelled through space and time, again.
A number of years ago, I was sitting on the 49 and passed by a bus stop with a couple of very noticeable people waiting at it. After continuing on this journey, for a number of minutes, I looked out the window again and saw that we were passing by the same spot as I had done moments earlier, with the same people. None of my friends believed me, but then again, they also didn't when I told them that Papa Disgrace directed E.T and that the cameras were in our Barna Shed.
Seeing the two Pats today, and by the way, he wasn't just wandering around, he was sitting down selling his books on Westmoreland Street and on Grafton Street, made me wish I really did have a time machine. If I did, I would use it, not to go back and fix things, but to fly as far away from this year as possible. 2017 looks good from here.
I suppose, so many things have gone wrong for me this year, that I am literally starting the next with a completely blank slate. I have no more girlfriend to lose. No more cats to lose custody of. No more money to piss against an ATM. In fact, what I do have right now, would be well worth losing. A 'murder hotel' chic 1 bed apartment in a house that looks like a before picture from a fire safety ad and a job where I'm literally obliged to leave my brain and personality at the front door and a debt that would have Bono and Geldof marching the streets for. I have Pasta though.
And here I am at Christmas. Tired, emotional and very sick of drink. It's an immovable object, that everyone must face. A time for spending. It's an imaginary hurdle that everyone bookmarks. They get the new sofa in 'for the Christmas'. They give the walls a 'lick of paint'. But it's also a very physical thing. It's there. The world stops spinning for one day, but everyone is preparing their festive bunkers for weeks in advance. And then they bed down, lock the hatch and pull a cracker.
Being on the other side can be pretty cold
Many a loyal reader has journeyed with me through 2007, and I'd like to thank them for being there.
Don't forget to turn off the lights
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
In the spectacular surroundings of the future site of the Poolbeg incinerator, TV3 launched their Christmas Schedule last night to much fanfare. Invited guests were dazzled by the charms of Toni, the 72 year old exotic dancer and Matt Cooper's extraordinary juggling.
6am - SantaMental - A festive tale with a twist as Santa Claus is accused of mass murder in 1930s Wisconsin. Viewers please note that some Children may find the scenes of ‘Santa in the Electric Chair’ and ‘Santa’s autopsy’ disturbing, particularly as we are showing this at 6am on Christmas morning, just as every child in the country is waking.
9am - Black Mass - Celebrating Christmas from St Ivor’s in Clonmel. Presented by Mary Black.
10am - Johnny Snowman, PI - Special Holiday episode of the award winning Cop show from Liberia. In today’s episode Johnny Snowman decides to celebrate Christmas by switching on a radiator.
11am - Xpose Christmas Special - Another chance to catch TV's sexiest bunch of transvestites as entertainment news and gossip from all around the globe is beamed via your television set, into your living room. We catch up with Brendan Bowyer before AND after his colon operation and we meet the Fair City actor who but behind a series of rape allegations, and a serious drink driving incident, to become on the nations favourite actors.
12pm - British Soap Opera - More drama from the mainland as we catch up with the comings and goings of a typical UK rural village. In today's episode a buck toothed Irish gombeen causes havoc when he releases wild pigs into the local comprehensive
1pm- News from the Back of a Bike - Bibi Baskin presents all today’s
headlines from the back of a bike on the Naas Dual carriageway.
2pm - The Big fucking huge massive Christmas Movie - Prazgo Et Wzicky - Dark and broody tale from Lithuania about the 1917 coal shortage. Andre Kiniswizcech stars as a boy in love with his own brother who must face up to the stark realities of life in the mines, and adulthood, when his brother is killed by a train. (1945 - Black and White )
4pm - Queens Speech - Ant and Dec present the eagerly awaited monarchs Christmas message.
6pm - The Colin Farrell Sex tape - Hi-octane sexual performance from the 'faddeler' and some whore. Sponsored by Woodies DIY
8pm - The explosion of Mary Albert's - Taught and emotional tear jerking heartbreaker starring Victoria Principal as an emotional and tearful broken-hearted woman who has just had her heart broken by an unemotional man. Her only friend, the bottle, comes to the rescue, but in a tear jerking and heartfelt finale, which is full of emotion, she finally meets a man (Hulk Hogan) who she feels can mend her broken heart TVM 1982
10pm - Gary Glitter (Live in Concert) - Rock legend Gary Glitters spectacular performance from London, 1985. Features all the hits. Support from the Welsh Junior boys choir
12pm - Sing me a sad song - Harrowing insight into the Welsh Junior Boys Choir scandal from London in 1985 when they were assaulted by an unnamed Rock Star, after a concert in London
1am - Power Cut
Monday, December 17, 2007
Consider National Disgraces considerable, yet evenly proportioned, weight behind this rather fine campaign to make Tom Waits Christmas Number 1
Anything that keeps Josh Adams 'You punctured my heart' or whatever evil shit is out at the moment, off top spot, is good enough for me.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Friday, November 30, 2007
But the coverage doesn't stop there. Once monthly, TV3 will broadcast 'You make me want to HURL' which will follow a group of Nun's from the west who enter a team in the national hurling championships and the many adventures they get up to along the way and 'Celebrity Sandwich Filling' which has nothing to do with the GAA whatsoever
To launch the new deal with the GEE EH EH?, members of the hit drama 'Heartbeat' and the gay guy who presents the weather on morning AM took part in a 'volleying' competition on the Naas Dual Carriageway.
For the record it was Heartbeat 17 - Weather Gay 12.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
So, the shiny faced Cockney ex-manager pundit that is Terry Venables looks a shoo-in for the vacant Ireland soccer managers job. Here's a copy of his application letter that I scanned when I broke into the FAI last night to shit in John Delaneys drawers...
"Dear Diamond Geezers at the EFF AAA I!!!,
Top of the bleedin Days Dawning to you!!
Har Har Har.. What about that then? The Oirish. Church Bell, what can I say about the Paddies, the old Tea Caddies?? Har Har Har.. I wish to apply for the job of Manager of the Repub-a-lick of Iland. I've been the Gaffer of loads of teams like Barcelona and Tottingham Hotspurs. You little beauty!!!
I have a severe all over Peter Pan, and although some may say it's orange, I hope that won't be a fraser crane in the Kybher Pass.. Har Har Har. Me auld mucker, Randy Andy Townsend will be at me Princess Bride all the lemon and Lime and he'll be showing me all the rub-a-dub-dub's over there in Dublin and the best places to go on the old Matt Le Tiss and to get a nice Ruby Murray. I'll need a one bed flat cos I've just divorced the old trouble and strife by the way.. Har Har Har
Here, 'Av a picture of me farting into a pint of bitter at the Groucho and if you need a reference, Tommy down the Pig and Whistle will do you up one on the back of a beermat.
Don't be a Queens Park Ranger, and get back to me, me old garden gates..
Monday, November 26, 2007
Opens in a grey, gothic turreted hospital. Shadows of roaming wolves disappear behind buildings as we enter the main reception
Doctor: 'I'm sorry, but your Husband is dead'. Cut to scene of devastated wife
Doctor: 'I'm afraid we will have to amputate'. Cut to scene of agonised patient. Revs of chainsaw fade out
Doctor: 'I'm terribly sorry, but you're blind'. Cut to scene of Patient reading newspaper. 'What?' replies Patient, looking confused..
Voiceover: "There comes a time, when even the richest countries in western Europe need more than a properly run, secure and reliable health service"..
Cuts to scene of hospital door swinging open in a shiny and elegant looking hospital
Voiceover: "sometimes, what they need is a hero"
Cuts to sexy nurses looking on in awe. A Patient in a coma wakes and sits up in amazement. The camera pans across this hero's broad chest. to a name tag. 'Mary Harney' (Played by Morgan Freeman). She grabs a clip board with supreme confidence and re-visits the same patients as above
Harney: 'Your husband isn't dead, we'll have him exhumed at once'. Cut to scene of confused wife
Harney: 'Great news Hop-a-long, there was nothing wrong with your leg. We didn't need to amputate!!'. Cut to scene of guy in a wheelchair
Harney: 'You won't be needing this' as she grabs cane from patient. 'Or this!' as she shoots guide dog in the face...
Closing shot of Harney riding a white horse out of the hospital gates
"The HSE - Not all mistakes need to be bad ones"
Thursday, November 22, 2007
*I am aware that the George is unlikely to have an engine room
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
In the last few months, the artist formerly known as National Disgrace, and still known as National Disgrace (except to Mama Disgrace, who she knows simply as a 'fucking disgrace') has been doing the emotional boogie. His heart has been low, as his his pants. There have been tears, but then again, there has been laughs (a bit like being savagely beaten by a clown). Old friends have come and gone, and two very little cats have been re-homed. Disgrace Manor too, has been deserted and currently lays as an empty monument to heroism. It's curtains no longer shield the luxurious goings on of a man at the peak of his powers, but instead, empty halls that are haunted by the ghosts of many of our finest.
And Aldi have noticed a sharp decline in sales of it's cheapest wines
Monday, November 12, 2007
Thursday, November 8, 2007
So, Disgrace is already regretting his decision to stick around this one horse town. I've been flat hunting you see. If you ever wanted a reason to do a 'Bertie' (kill yourself) then I urge you to join me as I take a tour of the seediest places in existence. Last night I went to see an 'apartment' that was advertised as 'stunning'. Obviously they mean stunning in the same way that being ejected out the windscreen of a moving car is stunning. 'All Mod Cons' was bandied about, but unless a dangerously wired 3 ring heater is considered the must have accessory of the noughties, then I didn't see much to get me excited. And you'd be more correct in saying that the dirt had windows attached to them than you would by saying the windows were dirty. Still, as anyone who knew me circa 1996 will know, I'm not fussy. I can handle a little bit of 'slumming' it as long as the people I'm with are worth the effort. The guy who was showing me the flat looking like a rapist Wurrzel Gummidge and I figured the term 'power shower' was as alien to him as a girlfriend. Still, he showed me around and was courteous. I enquired about Broadband and got shown a television in the corner. The tour didn't last long as the flat could be viewed in one 360 degree movement and soon I was sitting on the sofa answering personal questions about myself.
'Do you have a girlfriend' he asked. I noted at this stage that his left hand had been out of view for quite a long time. His demeanour startled me as he shuffled in a mixture of nervousness and personal ecstasy.. 'Or pets', he went on, his voice beginning to quiver a little. I left.
So, what's going on? So far this week I've seen places that look like Paedophiles lairs, Snuff movie sets, and Bela's gaff from Fair City, yet none of them, nor the beings that stalk their corridors, should be allowed exist.
Oh, and he offered the flat to someone else
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Oh, and I have the exact same hat as the one on 17 secs....
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
I suppose, if you've spent 7 years at lightbulb changing college, you'd be a little upset that 'anyone' could come in and do your job for you. I mean, I would be a little miffed if I arrived into work tomorrow and found someone pressing the buttons on this black thing on my desk and walking around the office with blank pages of paper in their hands and drinking coffee and nodding intently, so I can understand what the professional light bulb replacement engineers are thinking.
Still, they can always reciprocate and offer their services to the Health Service Executive in exchange. Sample headline "Heart Shock! - Electrician ruins cardiac op, kills 26 in process"
See if they like it then
*Credit to Mrs Cunningham for the scoop
..and the divisive new Bloc Party video. Amazing
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Now, barely weeks later, old N Dissy, has been persuaded to stay. Following an emotional number of weeks where Mac Disgracey faced off with 3 of the 10 most stressful things in life, the decision to keep the N boy and his valuable sperm in Ireland is sure to delight the masses.
So, rather than feeling the sand of freedom caress his toes, Disgrace will now be seen queuing for the 15B. Instead of sharing linguistics with the ancient Aztecs, he will be watching Fair City. Instead of dancing with passion to a street tango under an Argentinean moon, he will be raped and burgled..
Monday, October 22, 2007
Perhaps it might be an idea not to watch 'Office Space' every Sunday night
I actually googled Bagpipes there to see how difficult they would be to buy. I just fancy arriving into work tomorrow and playing them at my desk.
Friday, October 19, 2007
Fakey likes to work backwards (No, not in that way!) and who am I to argue? I have first hand experience of working with Fakester so I know what to expect. A strong work ethic with a dash of 'looking at lesbians on the internet'. There'll be espressos, double espressos and double espressos with beer in them. There'll be inspirational board meetings and lavish orgies of ideas interspersed with nights in custody and hospitalisation. Working with Fake Daddy is like riding a bike without a saddle.. Yep, that's right, hugely enjoyable..
We've already started. In fact, all those years ago when a homemade Ireland flag we made nearly caused a Dublin Bus to crash, we vowed to get on the payroll with each other. There have been moments since, such as our glorious Petrol Station days, but only now are we taking it seriously.
Fakey is hell-bent on the series revolving around two polar opposites, living against the backdrop of a dying Celtic Tiger. I kinda prefer two Polar Bears living with a Celtic loving Tiger but we'll reach a compromise. We have some ideas, some good, all bad.
Vince and Onions - Vince is a 32 year old over achiever. He likes the fine things in life and Onions, a 35 year old slacker, with a secluded rural background, living in the big 'smoke' for the first time ever... Episode one - Onions goes on a date with his cousin and Vince is heavily taxed on imported wine
Bronx-itis - Comedy set in the US starring Charlie Sheen as a washed up baseball player. In the first episode his Mother comes to visit and gets electrocuted whilst his love life goes from bad to worse when Sheila admits to having a 'fling' with his dog, snappy
Maxi Priest - Father Ted rip off featuring a taxi driving father who delivers his sermons to his captive audience. Every episode ends in a tragic traffic accident, with the priest delivering the last rites, usually, and hilariously, whilst he asks for the fare..
Here we come Stardom!!
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Ok, I've just checked my dictionary and there is no mention of friendliness involving a fire extinguisher in the face. Even Foreign students being strangled? The dictionary doesn't refer to this as being a one of our hundreds of thousands of welcomes. Baffling. And what about our daily murders and shootings? Not there I'm afraid, maybe that'll be in the next edition..
And what about the gang of Americans I met on Saturday night who witnessed, not one, not two, BUT FIVE, fist fights break out at the corner of Auinger St and Stephens St. Do you think they ran away because they felt welcomed? Are they writing postcards right now to their parents
'Dear Mom and Dad, I think I'm going to stay here for good. I saw a guy use a chainsaw on a postman earlier. It was so exciting. And I was in a big supermarket and an old woman, with lots of gold jewellery (she must be rich!!) punched her 5 year old child in the face for crying because it was cold and she'd just sold his jacket for heroin. The Irish are so nice. Oh, as I write this I'm being raped. Wish you were here, Stacey'
Still, the guy who drove by me at great speed, hanging out of the window of his luminous car on Wexford st the other night and told me he would 'set fire to my oul one' was being friendly. Wasn't he?
Monday, October 15, 2007
I'll do up a knapsack, pop it on a stick and take to the highway. It'll be feverishly romantic. My clothes will have the distressed look of a drifter, with a dash of hero. Strangers, will be high fiving me from passing trucks. I'll beat the dusty paths and cross the locomotive trail to the strains of Crosby, Stills and Nash. Dogs and goats will gallop along side me as I gather pace through the council estates, and will sleep beneath the stars with me, gently unrolling their tongues on my sweaty brow. I may or may not hire a Peruvian boy to carry my laptop and CD's. The days will become weeks and the weeks will become, strangely, days. I will know the stars by name, and each night I will serenade a different one. Wolves, will be repelled with ease and would be rapists will be invited to discuss their problems. Ticker tape will greet me in each town, the mothers will send their young with baskets of fresh bread. There'll be many a frothy one waiting for me in the bars. Local broadsheets will refer to me as the 'Mr Drift' and will count down my arrival. Flags will half-mast as I leave, the name 'Disgrace' will be a popular one for newly born kids for many a year to come.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Of course this doesn't mean that Fakey was right... but it was worth the argument, if you get my drift?
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
Anyway, horses. I was on my way to work this morning and a kid raced by on the back of one. At 8.30 am. On the Rathmines rd.
Still, it is nice to see them in positions of power
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Even members of the National Disgrace Cat fraternity were disgusted, and considering one of them had just spent a good 20 minutes choking on his own testicles, that's pretty severe. Anyway, it was during the 'cooking' of this meal that something interesting happened. Having almost lost a leg whilst trying to crush garlic, and just about preventing a major fire whilst boiling the rice, the 'BFD' (Big Fucking Disgrace) was having problems with his 'fried something'. It was stuck to the pan, in the same way a hedgehog sticks to a motorway. It was obviously a non-stick pan and this infuriated Disgrace as it quite obviously had some kind of food stuff stuck to it. So, naturally, he took out a ultra pointy and sharp knife and began to hack at the skillet like he was some sort of crazy kitchen based lumberjack. Of course, this act of chef rage did not help and soon Captain D was staring at a pan with it's Teflon surface in tatters and hanging off the side. It was just at this second, that one of the cats (obviously giving his balls a rest) somehow un-muted the TV by stepping on the remote. As the non-stick pan lost the stuff that makes it non-stick because something stuck to it, the air was filled with sinister tones of Bertie Ahern on 6:01 News, explaining to the Mahon Tribunal how he wasn't even born in 1997. Again, for the second post in a matter of weeks, old el Disgraceó was impressed by the irony
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Strategically planned, the route takes in all the glories of destructed and desolate Dublin. It's a beautiful sight, to be safely sped along Dorset St as track suited grannies engage in fist fights outside the Bookies and Pubs. I can only imagine tourists mouths salivating as they press up against the glass and look on jealously at Ginos chipper or any of the 70 or so fast food joints on the route, full to the brim with Celtic jerseys and drunks.
Disgrace took this route at the weekend as he returned from his holler's. Swapping the Prado and St Peters for the Sun and the Sea, our hero had one week earlier, nervously approached his first resort holiday. Filled with images of stabbings, England jerseys and 'Ballymun in the Sun', I arrived and spend a wonderful week of relaxation and non life threatening incidents. The sun beamed down of me like a huge hot ball of light and the Beer, ice cold in nature, went down easier than a paraplegic prostitute. Put simply, it was bliss on a stick. Without the stick.
Disgrace even ventured into a bar that was showing a televised soccer event featuring England. Half joking to Mrs D that she'd better get ready 'to be glassed and savagely beaten' they enjoyed nothing but courtesy from our cross channel cousins.
So, having tasted this and being completely surprised by it, I returned home to Ireland with a spring in my step. As the Aircoach sped along Dorset St, with all the jerseys gathered around corners like a Finglas funeral, and the men urinating against passing dogs, and the girls with skirts over their heads, and the drunks walking on their elbows and head butting themselves, I finally understood irony
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Thursday, September 6, 2007
So.. Let's drop some keywords and see how sick you guys are.
'Nude pictures free in cornflakes'
'Martina Navratilova in Hulk Hogan outfit'
'Sucking off Elephant'
'Dead Corpse Tits'
'Postcard with picture of pineapple in bikini on it'
'Nun face painting'
'Bertie Ahern in Lingerie'
'Balls the size of Jupiter'
'Kangaroo kissing Granny'
'Gentleman fiddling with penis'
'US drop Slut Bomb'
''Shamrock rovers fan naked'
'Where did you put the bounty bar? Urrghh, I'm not eating that now'
'Queen romps with Monkey'
'US ambassador covered in chocolate'
'Arse filled with tennis balls'
'Santa and dog action videos'
'Horse found in hotel room with TD'
'The Knuckle Jam Rap'
'Major sperm spillage on main street'
'Derek Davies talks 'boob jobs''
'Jim's Seedy Syrup'
'Sexy Sadamn Hussein'
'Set fire to pants and ride a bike'
'Naked golf players'
'Sliced pan nude'
'Removing foreskin with stapler'
'Carrot stuck to donkeys back in orgy'
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
Monday, September 3, 2007
There, parading in front of me like a procession of members of the Myra Hindley appreciation club at the world crèche championships, were a veritable who's who of absolute stupidity. First, we had two vacuous twins. Giggling and bouncing around like a duo of happy ping-pong balls, and just as pointless. Where in the world could you be presented with two attractive and innocent blonde twins and not be remotely interested in naughty thoughts? On Big Brother that's where. This pair, with their ringtone charm and fake telepathy, are so devoid of sex that it make a month old pancake with pencils stuck in it attractive..
Brian was the winner of this years show, a show that I like to think of a reverse quiz show. A competition whereby the most stupid person wins. Less 'Where in the world' and more 'Where is my brain'. Possibly Brian, it could be on the moon, which according to you, is MUCH bigger than the earth. Yes Brian, the Earth. You do remember you telling one of the Lobotomy Twins that we lived on Earth, but being a little unsure?. I'm not too sure either Brian...
So this guys wins. He was a likeable sort nonetheless, but then again, Battenberg cake is likable, but I wouldn't rely on it to fill in my tax returns. Despite him being 'astonished' that Ireland had it's own flag, because he thought it 'was an island'. He was right about that at least.
What is it with Britain and it's rewards for stupidity. Remember this is the country that voted David Beckham as prime minister (well, kind of). This is the country where Ant and Dec are the high brow, high point of entertainment, despite the two of them being captains of the idiotic.
Then again, we were all conned. I mean, once I discovered that William Shakespeare DIRECTED Romeo and Juliet, I knew that the Brits had been having us on all along
Thursday, August 30, 2007
That was until this
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
So it's the morning of day three. Right now you're likely to be enjoying one of the following predicaments. Laid out naked in the St Johns Ambulance area with drips attached to you and doctors screaming, or in Bjorks changing room watching her juggle pigeons with one foot in a teapot, or dead. There is also a chance that you're being held captive in a skobies tent somewhere on the campsite. This is where the Battered sausage I told you to pack will come in handy. Offer this to the skob and make good your escape while he salivates all over it, but remember to burn the tent on your way. Unless you're dead, and we shouldn't rule it out, you're now well on your way to enjoying another great day of music.
As it's Sunday, we'll start with a little prayer. Start with 'Dear sweet baby Jesus' and take it from there. Now you'll be requiring a trip to the Waltzers as it's a great way to see what you food you spent your money on yesterday.
2pm Main Stage
Pretty cool dude, but he's likely to pretty isolated on the big stage. I wouldn't expect to be up dancing to this but that's cool as you forgot how to stand on Saturday afternoon anyway. Key songs 'Original Stuntmaster' and 'Cold Water Music'
So it's now 2.45 and there's pretty slim pickings around. You could quite feasibly kill yourself now, but we'll probably save that for later. You could also go see Bell X1, but you'd be at the wrong festival if you did so we'll contend ourselves with 6 beers for now. You will notice that the Picnic is beginning to look like the outtakes from 28 days later, but don't knock it. Most of the food available has been there for 3 days by now and you'd be codding yourself if you thought that Kebabarama didn't use human body parts in their burgers anyway. Gorge on the weak and get your arse to Dave Couse in the Foggy Notions tent
3.30 Foggy Tent
It can go either way with the ex A House man, and it usually does. Pulling from a huge back catalogue one thing is for sure, it'll be a lot of fun and full of songs you know. Key tracks 'Endless Art' and 'Will it ever stop raining'.
If the Dance tent hasn't been confiscated by the Guards at this stage, you should get over there and throw some shapes. You should also be ready to throw some punches too because most of the people there are on their 27th pill of the weekend and things will have gone a little crazy. If you're so inclined, you could grab a quick feel of some young one and tell your mates later that you scored, it should be handy enough. Ok, leave the Celtic jerseys behind now and head into the home straight
5PM - Crawdaddy Tent
The Beasties are back and they'll be playing stuff from their pretty good instrumental album. Obviously you'll be pretty bored of this before long so you can nip over to Clap Your Hands Say Yeah at the Electric Arena. When you arrive in, make a big deal of actually clapping your hands and shouting 'YEAHHH!!' on the top of your voice. They love when people do that and you'll probably get sex out of it. Key Songs ' Satan said Dance' and ' Skin of my yellow etc'...
Couple of quick diversions now. Nip into Dan le Sac for his hit and get the hell out of there before he plays anything else. Unkle is on in some tent somewhere, so I'd groove along to him for a bit but you cannot justifiably be in the same county as Sonic Youth with actually going to see them. So go see them, as they're in the same county.
Blindness may well have set in to your good eye by now, but they say it increases your other senses so you should be able to hear the music perfectly now. So thank your lucky stars that Mika isn't playing. Rub a kebab over your face now, or better still, try and get it into your mouth and you're set for the final few hours.
8.45 Main Stage
Iggy and The Stooges
This will be Jammers, and with good reason. Looking like one of those preserved corpses over at St Michams, Mr Pop should be the highlight of the weekend. Key Track 'I wanna be your dog'.
You're gonna need a priest now, as I'm afraid the law of averages suggest one of your posse will have fallen victim to Consumption. Once the last rites have been administered and you've wolfed back 4 beers in memory, it's over to the Electric Arena.
9.30 Electric Arena
The Go! Team
It's the festival of love, so now's the chance to wrap some strangers crotch around your head and bounce them on your shoulders. Make sure they're the right way around though. Be liberal with your hugs, as they're a great chance to get in a sneaky grope or to pickpocket. Oh, I would avoid hugging the priest in the corner though, as I would with ANYONE who has their trousers around their ankles like he does. All of the Go! Teams songs are worth noting, so go wild.
So, we're nearly there. You've made it this far and that's something to be very proud of. Sure there's been the deaths, the rapes and Bjork but it's been all good. You might never walk again, but walking sucks anyway. There's only one hurdle left now and soon you'll be tucked up cosily in the back of an ambulance.
10.30 Primal Scream
The Screamers close the show and what a way to go out. These guys have more sides to them than a gang of schizophrenic triplets and will bounce from Country to Electro to Dance with the beat of a drum. They'll play 'Rocks' cos that's all most of you fools know but listen out for swastika eyes' too..
When the feedback all but disappears, and the lights come on, it'll be over. You'll see that the people you've been with all weekend aren't actually your friends and you'll now feel very alone. Don't bother looking for your shoes, they're long gone. So you trudge slowly over wet sand..."Morrissey, get away from my Computer'... Anyway, you'll make your way, heart heavy to the campsite. The familiar feeling of chaos has deserted you and the beats a million miles away, you'll wish it was all about to start again.. And that's the sign of a good festival. Not the scars, not being all cool in work the next day cos you're on crutches, but the fact that you'd do it all again...
And then you realise your tent is on fire.....
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
1.00 Foggy Notions tent
The Jimmy Cake
The first hour of the day is crucial to your overall survival, but if you're going to drop dead, this is the place to do it. Lingering instrumentals and emotion filled hooks will ensure that you meet your demise with a sense of ceremony. And, if you're one of the lucky ones and survive, this is the perfect start to the day. Key Songs 'The Opposite of Addiction' and 'this used to be the future'
Now, there is literally nothing to do until !!! at 3, unless you dig Marlenna Shaw, which I'm sure you don't. I suppose you could do a bit of vomiting now.
3.15 Electric Stage
!!! (CHK CHK CHK) or (EXCLAMATION, EXCLAMATION, EXCLAMATION)
Excellent thoughtful electro pop from these guys. Probably completely different live than on record and that should be a good thing. Also expect some interaction with their good buddies Hot Chipped Potatoes if they're still in town. Key Tracks 'Bend over Beethoven' and 'Must be the moon'
Bonde de Role
Crazy sub rave pop clash madness from these 'yokes'. The music is a lot of fun to make a lot of noise to, which generally means it's not that good, but they could be the hit of the festival. Key tracks 'All of them'.
Ok, so we're now in the thick of it. You've gone blind in one eye, but it could of been only slightly worse. You've just buried a member of your party, and another looks close to death. Do the humane things and leave them to die on the Big Wheel and get your arse over to Spilly Walker
5.30 Foggy Tent
New surprise electronic side project from a well known Dublin trendsetter. I'll give you a clue : It's David Kitt
Architecture in Helsinki
You've got 15 mins, so run up and ask them to play 'do the whirlwind' first. Throw your arms around a bit and make your excuses. Jarvis is on
6.45 Electric Arena
The Cockmeister, (not in that way)
The highlight of the weekend. He'll absolutely love it if you run up, pull your pants down, wave your arse at him and ask him to play 'smooth criminal'. Key Track 'C*nts are ruling the world' 'Any Pulp Track'. Tell him Disgrace says hello, and don't worry when he looks confused, he always does that.
7.45 Foggy AND Crawdaddy
If you have split personalities, perfect. Send one to Ladytron with their searing electro beats and another to Ratatat with his pseudo hip-hop-electro. Then get your self to a doctor, because split personalities should not manifest them selves in such a physical fashion. While you're there steal some Morphine. You're going to need it later
8.45 Electric Arena
Gay is the new straight, and where better to dance with your hands on your hips than at this. With more hits than the average battered wife, you'd wanna be dead not to enjoy this. Key 'Oh L'amour' and 'A little Respect'
Simian Mobile Disco
Get your arse (if it's recovered from the above) to this for the last 45 mins of their set. Bursts of genius from these guys and they'll doubtlessly play that song that used to be cool before MTV started playing it. Key Tracks ' That one'. Of course, 'The Field' are playing too.. They're pretty damn good also
10.30 Quick Breather
Now's a good time to go looking for your trousers, probably back at the erasure tent. Do a quick headcount, and be ruthless, ditch the liabilities. Might be an idea to whack a bit of that morphine into you, cos you've just lost an arm and the pain is something else... We've only time for one more full band and a little bit of the Mary chain'..
10.45 Beastie Boys
It has to be. They're playing an instrumental set one of the nights and a full on hits collection the other. I've no idea what night this is, but then again, either will you
Sunday to follow
LCD Soundsystem - Friday - Main stage
Cooler than a lock-in at Solas, James 'could of played for Ireland' Murphy is back, or well, here at least. Key tracks 'North American Scum' and 'Tribulations'
9.45 - 10.00
Modest Mouse - Crawdaddy Stage
Expect this to be full of people who don't even realise they've released 39 albums. Get this 15 mins in before LCD. Key Tracks ' talking shit....' 'Float On'
8.45 - 9.45
Bjork - Main stage
More screeches and wails than a Priest Filled creche, but very occasionally, something melodic and beautiful emerges from beneath the noise and when it does it's nicer than Christmas . Key Tracks 'Earth Intruders' and ' Hyperballad'
8.00 - 8.45
You time - Anywhere
Relax now and take it easy. It's only Friday and you're already disgustingly drunk. At this stage you could wander into Simple Kid, but that'd be too easy. The Dance tent hasn't even got warmed up yet so I'd avoid that as it'd be a bit like being at Funderland on your own. Best to slump against a tree and French kiss a stranger right now. Their saliva should contain enough energy to keep you going.
7.00 - 8.00
Hot Chip - Main Stage
The party is really starting now. Hot Chip's 'Over and Over' was the soundtrack to a summer of pants dropping last year and with 'My Piano' on a decent DJ kicks records they're well and truly back. Note, Hot CHIPS are available from a number of Vans around the site, but they're not the same thing
5.45 - 6.45
Paul Hartnoll - Electric Arena
You've arrived. 7 cans of Tuborg down already and your bladder is so ready to explode that the US are considering it a threat to security. Release the beast and head to ex Orbital man Paul's eclectic set. He mixes it up a little, and it's a great start to a weekend, that all being well, you will end up being hospitalised after. Key Tracks 'Patchwork Guilt'.
Full timetable here
Peters Pub in Dublin City Centre was an oasis of down to earth normality. Lurking, non-threateningly in the back streets between Georges and Grafton, it's curtained windows gave off a homely, yet sophisticated air where only on a sunny day would you see any custom. Not that there wasn't any on the other 364 days of the year, but on those grey and cold afternoons, these drinkers were tucked cosily behind the net curtains and being kept warm by the balmy flow of soft conversation. Stepping in from a day shopping, you'd be lucky to get a seat at the bar as it was so small, so the best you could get was one of the couches along the left hand side. But it'd do. The old regulars would be perched at the bar anyway. There'd be no music. No Television. No distractions. It was a beautiful place to get very beautifully drunk in.
The other day, myself and two members of the Disgrace appreciation society were keen to refresh ourselves and a suggestion to hit 'Pete's' was motioned. It passed. When we arrived at the door, I was greeted with the sight of a man in 'work garments'. Even though he had a hammer in his hand and pencil behind his ear, I had decided that he was merely an alcoholic carpenter (just like Karen) and went to casually brush him aside.
He didn't have to say anything because I was stopped quite firmly in my tracks. I looked through the window (one of the ones in the picture there) and was greeted with a badly executed Opera of disaster. The bar, which had once oozed with character, was gone and had been replaced with 50's re-model faux wood panels, 'distressed' to look older. The landmark toilet, which had so much wrong with it, that it was just perfect, was gone. A wall, which once separated the pub from the shop next door, was gone. Christ, even the shop next door was gone. And now, the character was also gone.
Disgrace and Co. struck up a conversation with the 'builder' and he promised us that the finished article would be different, that it's merely an 'auld lick of paint'. I shook my head dismissively, as I do with the working class, and turned and headed for Camden Street.
Another bit of Dublin is gone. And, judging by last nights return visit to Peters, so are the regulars.
*Pic from fjp
Monday, August 27, 2007
10:30-12:00 LCD Soundsystem
7.00-8.00 Hot Chip
5.30-6.15 Ukelele Orchestra of GB ©
9.15-10.30 The Good, The Bad & The Queen ©
7.30-8.30 Manic Street Preachers
5:45 - 6:45 Paul Hartnoll Band
9:30 - 10:30 Modest Mouse
7:45 - 8:45 Simple Kid
6:30 - 7:15 Scott Matthews
5:30 - 6:00 How I Became the Bomb
12.30-2am Derrick Carter
1130-1230 Greenskeepers Live
0900-1130 Mr Scruff
0730-0900 Dixon & Ame
0600-0730 The Glimmers
0500-0600 The Elecktrons
0400-0500 Larry Heard
0300-0400 Stereotonic DJs
0200-0300 Republik DJs
0100-0200 Backlash DJs
1200-0100 Acii Disco DJs
11.10. DADDY. (IRL)
10.20. Tado. (UK)
9.30. Alan Clarke. (IRL)
8.40. The Tender Trio’s Brian Coldrick & Christopher Reeves. (IRL)
7.50. David Rooney. (IRL)
7 Richard Gilligan. (IRL)
6 Intro video.
12.00-2.00 Chemical Bros
10.00-11.15 The Jesus and Mary Chain
8.15 - 9.15 Polyphonic Spree
6.30-7.30 Magic Numbers
4.45-5.45 Easy Allstars Radiodread
3.00-4.00 Craig Armstrong
1.30-2.15 Marlena Shaw & Orchestra
12.30-1.00 The Company
10.45-12.00 Beastie Boys
6.45-7.45 Jarvis Cocker
1.00-1.30 Channel One
11.00-12.00 Duke Special
9.15-10.15 Spiritualized Acoustic Mainlines
6.30-7.15 Architecture In Helsinki
5.15-6.00 Fionn Regan
4.00-4.45 The Undertones
2.45-3.30 Dave Geraghty
1.45-2.15 Candi Payne
9.15-10.15 Final Fantasy
6.30-7.15 Camera Obscura
5.15-6.00 Spilly Walker
2.00-2.30 Angus & Julia Stone
1.00-1.30 The Jimmy Cake
11.00-12.00 Nouvelle Vague
9.15-10.15 The Field
7.45-8.45 DHOL Foundation
5.15-6.00 65 Days of Static
4.00-4.45 Stephen Fretwell
3.00-3.30 My Brightest Diamond
2.00-2.30 Kissaway Trail
1200-2am Josh Wink
1030-1200 Marco Carola
0900-1030 Simian Mobile Disco Live
0730-0900 Jamie Liddell
0630-0730 DJ Marky
0400-0530 Bonde Do Role
0300-0400 Annie Mac
0200-0300 SiSI (110 st DJs)
0100-0200 Inner City DJs
1200-0100 DJ Competition Winner
11 Mike Mills. (US)
9.10. Ben Drury. (UK)
8.20. Lovely Productions. (IRL)
7.30. Jill Furmanovsky. (UK)
5.50. eBoy. (GER)
5 BrenB. (IRL)
4.10. Angry. (IRL)
3.20. Asbestos. (IRL)
2.30. Airside. (UK)
1.40. Aidan Kelly. (IRL)
12.50. Dan Willett & Mark James. (UK)
12 Conor & David. (IRL)
10.45-12.00 Primal Scream
8.45-9.45 Iggy & The Stooges
7.00-8.00 Sonic Youth
5.15-6.15 Soul II Soul
3.30-4.30 Horace Andy
12.45-1.30 Luisito Quintero
12.00-12.30 Gospel Choir
9.30-10.30 The Go! Team
5.45-6.45 Clap Your Hands Say Yeah
4.15-5.00 Rahzel & MC Supernatural
12:30-1:00 Fight like Apes
10.45-11.45 Damien Dempsey
7.15-8.15 Rilo Kiley
5:00-6.30 Beastie Boys
3:15-4:15 The Fall
2.15-2:45 Patrick Wolf
1.15-1.45 Two Gallants
12.15-12.45 Warlords of Pez
9.00-10.00 Fujiya & Miyagi
7.15-8.15 Dan le Sac Vs Scroobius Pimp
4.45-5.30 Bat for Lashes
3.30-4.15 Dave Couse
2.30-3.00 Loney Dear
1.30-2.00 Si Schroeder
12:30-1:00 The Flaws
Time Trends Lab
10.45-11.45 Kieran Hebden & S Reid
9.00-10.00 Dub Pistols & Terry Hall
7.15-8.15 The Ting Tings
6.00-6.45 Sons & Daughters
4.45-5.30 The Aliens
3.30-4.15 Good Shoes
1.30-2.00 The Little Ones
12:30 - 1:00 Oppenheimer
1030-1200 Derrick May
0900-1030 Bodytonic Sound System
0800-0900 Joakim Live
0700-0800 Aquerla (Samba Band)
0530-0700 DJ Yoda
0430-0530 Bugs In The Attic
0330-0430 DJ Craze & A-Trak
0245-0330 Scribble Records pres DJ Kormac
0200-0245 Stee Downes (10 piece band)
0100-0200 Timmy & Al Simms(Stiff Kitten)
1200-0100 Viva DJ's - Limerick
11 Colonel Blimp w/directors.
10 Shynola. (UK)
9.10. Tim Biskup. (US)
8.20. Oliver Jeffers. (IRL)
7.30. Rinzen. (GER)
6.40. Johnny & Michael Kelly. (IRL)
5.50. Hort. (GER)
5 Gary Baseman. (US)
4.10. Linda Brownlee. (IRL)
2.30. Conor Harrington. (UK)
1.40. David Cleary. (IRL)
12.50. Jon Burgerman. (UK)
12 Glenn Leyburn. (IRL)
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Trapped in the Closet (Full Series on Google)
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Get a load of this poster that I saw in my local Londis. Nearly as shocking as their prices, it offers to 'help you fill' your childs schoolbag, though you may require an unlimited overdraft to do so, and then goes further and prints a picture of a person 'hanging' and what appears to be a coffin, again offering to help you fill it.
The 2-for-1 special on ropes doesn't help either
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Now I can see why the English hate them so much.
Anyone for Freedom Fries?
Friday, August 17, 2007
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Many, many moons ago, when the Eighties was still a very vivid memory and carpet jackets had just burst onto the scene, a curtain-topped and chisel jawed Disgrace was handed a piece of paper that he had spent the previous 13 years fearing. The Leaving Certificate. After the customary whooping and yahooing, my classmates and I all retired to the local lakes where the weak and the red-headed were dispatched with wet abandon. Flour bombs garnished with rotten eggs, were lashed at passing cars with much hilarity. Our artistic talents were hilariously exposed as we gave our teachers cars new paint jobs. There was also streaking, mooning, and indecent exposure in the very corridors of academia that we once slowly trudged.
Eventually, after one of the guys lost his front teeth, we took a break from the carnage and most of us went home to change. I was still wet and covered in flour (I was never the most popular in school) and I remember vividly pulling off my uniform with a fleeting sadness. My shirt had been autographed by all my friends and I was really going to miss both of them. Anyway, after explaining to my folks that "F's" were actually good, I was back down at the school armed with two 2 litre's of 'White Lightning' cider. I'm sure you know the drill from here, I drank the two of them, I vomited them back up. Then there was the noisy bus journey into town, where rivers of urine flowed from lane ways. Coats, heavy with Naggins, hung in cloakrooms all around the city. There was more vomit. Then some mooching, some vomiting, some mooching and some bouncers. The night was like a carousel of chaos, and when we returned home (minus our coats) we left a trail of destruction behind us that would of had the Danish apologising.
This morning then, I was battle ready. I emerged from Disgrace Manor with trepidation. Surely, I thought, the city will be in meltdown. Cars, will be littered around the streets, like litter, only car shaped. And on fire. I expected casualties. Bodies of 17 year olds, all stacked up like Surrey cattle. I anticipated rivers of vomit, crashing through Rathmines. I even wore less exclusive aftershave in a probably vain attempt to ward off amorous females. But I need not of worried. For instead of a post-leaving-apocalypse, I was greeted with the usual hustle and bustle of Dublin town. No screaming fire engines. No speeding squad cars. Not even a single pavement pizza to negotiate.
It appears that Irish teenagers have gone soft. I suppose I'll have to blame Bertie on this one too.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
As Lansdowne road continues to be developed for apartm.. sorry, a new national stadium, this touching time lapse vid has surfaced. It's just like seeing an old stadium being demolished, very quickly.
In related news, the Hickster has handed in his notice and is intent on going out at the top. Here's two of his finest moments (so far) in an Irish Jersey. Incredible tackle, incredible try
Thursday, August 9, 2007
Ranging from Drama to Comedy, TV3 have delivered a mesmerising selection which is guaranteed to delight.
Here's some Highlights:
The Bus - NEW SERIES - Documentary following a 14A as it gets it's monthly wash at Donnybrook depot. Featuring close up shots of the Bus windows before AND after the wash
Cookin’ Deadly!! - Cookery show presented by members of chart-topping Dublin rock group Aslan. Today Christy prepares Sausages in Batter for his 42-year-old Grandmother whilst the ugly drummer guy attempts a Batch Loaf sandwich. Sponsored by Murphy’s Opticians, Ringsend.
Heartbreak Street - New drama series from the US focusing on thelives and loves of a group of twenty-something’s on ‘Heartbreak Street’. Episode One: Alan and Jessie’s romance ends in heartbreak, whilst there is heartbreak in store for Molly. Meanwhile, Craig is bracing himself for heartbreak as he goes to visit Marcy.
Muldoon and Le Touche - Detective series straight from the US featuring two sexy lesbian cops. Muldoon is a 21 stone African American whilst Le Touch is an alcoholic Canadian with a gimpy leg. Today the crime-fighters uncover a secret drugs warehouse and are shocked to find drugs in it
Hammered! - Gritty Northern comedy from the North - Episode One - Bowsy is skinned alive outside the community centre and Jonny gets into a fist fight with his Granddaughter. Meanwhile Gerry and Melissa’s wedding is off again as he gets nailed to a cross by provos and Andy has some serious questions to answer after he’s discovered floating in a pint of milk.
The Big Happy Alarm Wake Up Call Morning Breakfast Dawn Entertainment Show - Snappily titled breakfast show presented by Fr Brendan Smith (Not that one!!).Today’s guests include a young Longford boy who believe his teeth are haunted and a couple who claim their washing machine says 'sausages' when they put it on a mixed fabric wash.
The World Cup Final! - Live coverage of this years Egg and Spoon World Cup Final from Algeria. Competitors battle it out for the World Cup Final, in this, the Egg and Spoon World Cup Final
Cysb u Indoiom - Classic Kurdish movie starring Alsaf Hxemipo as a horse who dreams of being a little boy. (1956)
TV3 - A celebration – Hour-long special celebrating TV3’s birthday. Catch up with the gay guy who does the weather in the mornings as we go behind the scenes in our shed, sorry, studio. Filmed on a Nokia 6230 in mostly bad light for that ‘ cheap ‘ affect
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
Thursday, August 2, 2007
Monday, July 30, 2007
Disgrace kept himself in last night. It was a wise choice as Charity Your a Star was on. He drank some wine. He wrote a review of it. Here's it is
Budavar Pinot Grigio
The bottle, a clear glazed specimen with gummed parchment proudly singing of it's wares, was topped off by a curved and subtly sculpted 'wine hat'. The moment of release encouraged a sharp intake as it's applely mist devoured the senses. It would be wise to stand back, touch somebody you love very intimately and allow the narrow necked receptacle to release the olfactory sensation into the soft light of an evening, only now made memorable.
Two shimmering vessels of crystal should be left pondering and salivating at the prospect of this heavenly juice being lashed into their quivering lips. In the vicinity, a punnet of full and fresh plums, glazed only barely noticeably, by the thinnest of sweet layers of sugar cane. The choice of music, often overlooked when tasting the vine, should not be made hastily. Aggressive guitar music and heavy tribal beats are best avoided. Artists such as 'Sergio John Mulcahy Hernandez and the Holy Lemons', 'Orchestra of sudden death' and 'Hooka Jumpy Willowy Bip' provide the grace required for this dance with nirvana. Their low-lying drum shuffles dance merrily with drive-by pan pipes, and the vocals, sent from heaven, via some ethnic refugee camp, would make you drop your car keys with amazement. So, with Sergio's 'A woman in the fridge' playing on the 45, and your plums freshly sugared, you are now almost ready to savour the intercourse with your wine.
Pouring should be deliberate. The Vino, should be coaxed gently, but firmly. Remember, you are the boss. The first splash may alarm you. Like a crashed rainbow, the colours are still adjusting to their new settings. But boy do they adjust. Soon, a generous serving should be waiting for you.
And then it touches your lips
I would imagine sharing a lingering tongue filled snog with a certain Ms Marylyn Monroe, whilst riding down route 66, with GOD in the drivers seat might come close, but nothing else would. To say that my taste buds exploded and blew my head clean from my shoulders, would only just be a slight exaggeration. I will tell you, my life changed when I first tasted this wine. Colours, I never knew existed, suddenly came to life and whispered to me in hushed, bright tones. I began to speak fluent Spanish all of a sudden and I loved it.
With the earthiness of the lawn of a heavily manicured princesses garden, this vino gently ebbs and flows in your mouth, essentially teasing your taste buds. It's full bodyness, then unleashes itself in the most provocative manner and literally takes your mouth on a tour of the worlds native dances, stopping twice at flamingo. With a subtle hint of chillies, this 'great white' packs a delicate punch but does not bruise. The afterMATH is nothing short of completely sensational. A real Hollywood ending emerges once you have swallowed. It is likely you will fall in love with the first person you see at this stage, so tell your granddad to wait outside.
Overall? The nicest wine I have ever tasted. Olympic quality.
Seriously? Only 3.50 in Aldi, does the trick, get's you nicely toasted
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Last Saturday night, in the midst of the Joe O'Reilly murder circus (note to children: this is not the type of circus you can visit, with clowns and Algerians), Disgrace and Co. retired to a good friends for pornography and biscuits. The conversation ebbed and flowed like the frothy tide on Curacloe beach, when one of our party suggested we play 'charades'. After some innocent fun, and minimal personal injury, our game of charades turned to a nasty game of 'shouting at each other'. The Sunday papers had appeared you see.
It was that kind of night.
They were those kind of charades.
The biccies were Chocolate Polos.
The papers, as they have been for the past 2 months, were wall to wall Joe O'Reilly. The verdict had been made during RTE's Big Big Family movie, but before Trump Card. These Papers (dead trees basically), were now free to spread their spurious muck all over the mind-farm of Ireland. However they didn't, at least the high end broadsheets that I read didn't. I can't speak for the ones with the Dixon's ads and the soccer transfer speculations in them, but I'm sure they were reserved too. This did not stop Disgrace and Co. riding a merry-go-round of hi-energy opinions for the next hour. Voices were raised. Fists waved menacingly. Girls cried. Glasses too, raised. The Polos, eaten.
'This was a trial by Media' shouted Disgrace, not fully convinced
'Arrghhhh spurgggle fluuurp' responded the nameless adversary
And so it went on. Somehow, as the dark of night sank deep into the bottom of the glass, an agreement was made, when the last Polo left town.
'A trial IN the Media'. We agreed. Smiled. Posed for some photos. Played some monopoly
But, it's since then that Disgrace has watch the media of this country reveal itself. There was some 'Hang the Bastard' sub headlines. He was called a 'Crazed Killer' by others (Note, he is a killer, no argument). But yesterdays 'Oirish' Sun was made for the most interesting read. They claimed that Joe was 'obsessed' with evil dark lord, Darth Vadar (of Star Wars, the movie series). It was claimed by the 'award' 'winning' 'Irish' 'Sun' that he had a room devoted to his sinister fascination. He used to sneak up and people and recite chilling quotations from this diabolical fictional comic book character. This was the kind of Journalism that resulted in Disgrace having his unnamed friend in a headlock on Saturday night.
Still, I'm pretty sure Joe O'Reilly would be very easy to beat at Charades
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
I once snuck into Dalymount park by climbing through some blackberry bushes, leaping over someone's back wall and then spending 2 hours perched on one foot (with barbed wire ripping at my trousers), in an attempt to catch a glimpse at Andy Townsend's debut for Ireland Vs France. I could just about make out the top of one of the goals, but by and large, I could not see anything. It was also lashing rain.
Last night I watched eircom league weekly on TV3 and the memories of that horrible night came flooding back. Now, I commend them for broadcasting it in the first place, and the studio discussion is leaps and bounds above the same for international games. But the coverage? Oh fuck. We saw some 'action' from Longford, that looked like it was filmed on a camera phone from the back of a moving bike,
whilst I could of sworn the highlights from Waterford were filmed from a security camera. Obviously TV3 undercut RTE to get the gig, but by compromising the quality, it is ultimately the league that suffers. Most peoples opinion of the LOI is based on what they see on TV, so it would really help if the back of someone's head wasn't in the way or it wasn't filmed from a tree
It's a real pity as the quality of the game is vastly better than it has been for a long time. Teams like Drogheda and St Pats are not just professional in name, but also in nature. Now if only TV3 was the same
Oh, and did you know they've got the rights to Irelands Rugby World Cup games?
Friday, July 20, 2007
I had a brief encounter recently. I was at an awards ceremony being lavished with silverware when an English gentleman insisted on taking me up on something he'd overheard me say. I won't bore you with the details, but it involved ASDA's impending takeover of a very prominent family supermarket chain. It was hard to take offence to his argument, business being business, buyouts and takeovers happen every day. And I nodded politely as he went on. This guy knew his retail. Anyway, I eventually did take offence when he called Ireland a nation of convenience stores. Apparently, we're the world number 1 for Spars, Centras and Londis's. They're literally queuing up to open new ones, all over Ireland.
Now, I offered an articulate and deft reason for this. We've become a bunch of cunts.
Today, I hear that the famous Henry Grattan pub on Baggot street is to become a Londis. This is double whammy. Another unneeded shop and the another unneeded loss of a small bit of our heritage. One of the great treats I get from going abroad is the total lack of stores like these. I love the way I have to go, say in Paris, to one store for a newspaper and another for a bottle of Water. Or in Budapest, an apple in small grocer number one and a Kuntz bar from stall number two. Now, an historic city centre pub is to be stripped of all it's character and painted bright green and filled with over-priced, ready made meals.
Now, there is a tenuous link to old Ireland in the emergence of these retail culture rapists. It was not unknown in Ireland 100 years ago for you to get drunk, send your post, buy half a pig and pick up some Persil in the same spot. Cute. But the level that Londis has encroached onto the main streets isn't cute, It's just nasty.
You know, this was gonna be another attack on modern Ireland. "If the cultured folks of Berlin and Madrid can do without Spars, then why do we need them" I would of said. But you know, that's not what this was about.
It's just sad
Monday, July 16, 2007
Aside from the fact that Kerry Katona was kidnapped today, I've had very little to laugh about. The rain continues, occasionally punctuated by some showers and scattered almighty downpours. It hasn't gone unnoticed at Disgrace Manor that it has rained EVERY SINGLE day since you bastards voted Bertie back in.
Anyhow, as a treat for my loyal reader, I have decided to post EVERY SOUPY NORMAN EPISODE SO FAR, below, in a post called 'EVERY SOUPY NORMAN EPISODE SO FAR'.
According to RTE, Soupy Norman is "A new Cork based drama inspired by The Playboy of the Western World and Winning Streak contestants"
Episode One: Soupy Norman saves the day
Episode Two: Watchout Soupy is about
Episode Three: Soupy to the rescue
Episode Four: Dr. Soupy's Prognosis
Episode Five: Soupy wins a car
Episode Six: Return of Soupy
Episode Seven: Soupy Returns
Episode Eight: Who was Soupy Norman - Coming Soon
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Disgrace was only 10 years old when he first set foot there. In a decade dominated by the Eurovision and cheap Dunnes jumpers, it was a mega structure from another planet. As Papa Disgrace lifted me over the stiles and offered a wink and a pound note to the attendant, I was bug eyed with excitement. Whilst grown men were crawling the streets outside looking for a few hours work, I sat in the luxury of the West Stand, with a very uneconomic hotdog in my hands, simply marvelling at the super arena that contained me. We cheered and laughed (especially when Neville Southall snapped his leg in half in the 12th minute), as Ireland took on the might of Wales in what was then a keenly anticipated 'friendly'. The stadium then was only half full, partially due to most of the men in this country being in America or down at the dole office, so the screams of Mr Southall were beautifully audible. The game ended, and I was treated to all manner of delicacies on the way home. Whilst whole families rummaged through skips and chased stray dogs, I was gorging myself on chips and chocolate. This was my first trip to the grand old dame of Ballsbridge (no, not the 86 year old prostitutes from the Dart station), Lansdowne road.
Over the many years that followed I returned constantly. I witnessed many more leg breaks, but none as exciting as Neville's. I witnessed U2 in Popmart there. The final rugby match. Other stuff too. Always rounded off with chips and chocolate, and as time passed, Caspian food. I never tired of it's beauty. Sure, as I matured, it did too. It began to creak, and certainly got a bit rough around the edges but I still got a thrill from entering through the one of the narrow entrances. But enough about the prostitute.
So, here we are. Modern Ireland. The below pictures show the demise of this great place. Even close scrutiny of the photos will reveal no barber cutted corner boys in guineys suit trousers. No men waiting at the bus-stop with a single suitcase and a one way ticket. No hungry children roaming the streets with nets to catch dogs in. When Jack Charlton emerged from under the west stand that day, he brought with him a new sense of hope. And the country changed forever
For me though, every time I hear someone snap a pencil, I think of it. When I hear some pervert creep up behind me and crack a twig as I wash naked in the forest, I stop and remember.
Neville Southall. Father of the Celtic Tiger