Bottle

I would think at this stage of my life as a bit of a drinker there would be very little to surprise me in the way of a hangover. Headaches. Had them. Nausea? Not a bother. Inability to talk? Some people think I’m at my best in this condition.

Then why is that one recent occasion I suffered more than I have ever suffered in my life? Its not because I drank more than usual. Or because I drank something exotic and out of the ordinary. It was a relatively normal late night where I had couple of beers followed perhaps with one or two whiskey chasers.

Frankly, it was a gentle night.

The next day however was Hell. I woke up fairly fine. A bit groggy…but these things have to be expected. I showered and dressed as usual without any ill effects. It was as I was on my way to lunch with a friend that it started to hit me.

First was the issue with the Sun. Did it really have to be so bright. I hate to sound ungrateful but given that its graces us with its presence on such rare occasions was it to much to ask that scoot off back behind the grey clouds were he usually resides.

Any other time I would happily bask in its solar glory. However today my eyes were offended by its very existence and my head did not appreciate it sending down all that heat into my cranium.

It was around then realised I was still very tired. Lifting my feet as I walked was a bit of a challenge. The shirt I was wearing decided that it wasn’t happy in the position that you would normally associate with shirts. No, not your normal, arms in sleeves, buttons at the front for this shirt.

This shirt decided it wanted to be a scarf. No matter how I adjusted it, tugged at the seams, opened and closed the buttons or flicked the collar, this shirt wanted to be wrapped tightly around my neck cutting off my air supply like a boa constrictor with a South American school boy that has wandered too far from his school trip.

The next question to addressed is why I had decided to wear dress shoes. The answer is probably because they would look good with the shirt. It certainly wasn’t for comfort as my painful 20 minute to the walk the coffee shop could attest to.

No I was not dressed appropriately to be this hung over. When I’m suffering the effects of alcohol I prefer to keep it sartorially simple. Naked or very loose at most. This was neither of those. I wasn’t going to be defeated by it however. I could go and change as soon I’d eaten.

The next issue was not far away unfortunately. The friend who I was dining with is a delightful person. She is good natured , funny and good company. This day however it was The Care Bears themselves had rode down from the heavens on rays of sunshine in order to dispense to her an over dose of happy pills.

Anyone who has ever shared a house with, worked with or generally seen me can verify that I am not a morning person. I have in the past been accused of being grumpy. Its been known of me to threaten physical harm to those who aren’t accustomed to my easing into the day. I have tried to alter this reputation and like to think I’m a much nicer person these days. But its like Chris Rock said when talking about Siegfried and Roy’s tiger who attacked one of them. “The tiger didn’t go crazy. The tiger went tiger.”

My natural grouchiness plus a hangover plus my companions sunny dispo-fucking-sition does not equal a good time for all. The grumpier I got the perkier she got in an effort to give me a boost. All I wanted to do was sit there and replenish my body with buckets of Pepsi. She wanted to ‘talk.’ What kind of sadist wants to talk at 1pm on a Sunday.

I played with my cutlery as she waffled on about lollipops and rainbows or whatever the hell she was talking about. I looked down at the knife. It would take too long to cut my wrists with that blunt blade. There was nothing else for it. I would have to stab her in the eye with fork.

Oh come on. Don’t tell me you’ve never fantasised about impaling your friends with eating utensils when hung over.

At least when the meal arrived I’d be able to concentrate on that. Food would be my saviour, right? So very wrong. I felt that I needed something greasy and stodgy to make me feel somewhat normal. Steak Sandwich and chips please. As I saw the waitress approach with my order its almost as if I could hear the Hosannas and Hallelujahs. That was until she put it in front of me.

The food itself was fine. I’m not here to besmirch the reputation of Rita’s Café. It was cooked well, the ingredients were fresh and it looked like a steak sandwich should. The smell, however, emanating from the meat and mushroom filled baguette was not something that my stomach was quite prepared for. First it danced a reel, then a jig and then I’m not sure but I think it may have finished off with the Macarena.

I won’t go into details but let us just assume that time has passed and I spent ten minutes or so in the bathroom doing what Nadine from Girls Aloud swears she doesn’t do.

So I returned to the table and my still bouncy buddy. Taking my seat, I looked down at my food congealing. It would be a real shame to waste it. I have to pay for it anyway. So for the next forty minutes or so painfully masticating a steak sandwich while trying to have a conversation with the ridiculously happy bastard child of Barney and Rachel Ray.

When the food was done and the bill was paid I said goodbye to my friend (Who is genuinely lovely…I may have exaggerated slightly for dramatic effect) and went home to change my clothes. I have to be honest, I wanted to just strip off and lie on my bed as natural as the day I was born. Sadly, on this particular day, I had another appointment.

It was fates cruel sense of humour that had done it. My life had been too easy up until now and it was time to make up for just breezing through life. I had promised I would attend a gathering and not amount of whining about being a little hung over would justify not going.

A quick change into jeans, trainers and my ‘Clearly I Have Made Some Bad Decisions’ tee shirt and I was off again. I would be attending a birthday party. Not just any birthday party you understand. A two year old’s birthday party. Surrounded by noisy children singing and screaming, balloons bursting and babies crying. Dante must have forgot about that level in his inferno.

Generally I would have called up, told some sort of audacious lie that no one actually believes but everyone is too nice to call me on. However , on this occasion I couldn’t. Besides the fact Cathals Mammy makes some pretty amazing cakes, the two year old in question was my good buddy Cathal. It was Cathal’s second birthday but it was actually his first birthday party. For his first birthday he had been in Our Lady’s Hospital having an operation on his heart.

He really is a brave little guy and you should definitely read his blog. Its much better than mine and he doesn’t whinge like a baby just because he over indulged on exorbitantly priced eastern European lagers. He might only be two but that kid can drink.

Before I go I think its important to say that I have learned something from this and a more recent mixing of hangovers and young children. I really need to avoid kids when i'm a little worse for wear.

Kinda Random

So I feel like I owe you people something. I didn’t get to post anything a couple of weeks ago so I feel as if I’ve short changed you, the reader.

So in order to make it up to you I’ve decided that instead of a full blog, I will just share with you some very random thoughts that I have been having lately. Nothing too heavy or life changing. Just a couple of opinions, reviews and recommendations that you can take or leave as you wish.

1) I love Custard Creams. I had an aunt who used to work in Jacobs when I was a kid. We used to get loads of biscuits. Goldgrain, Chocolate Goldgrain, Fig Rolls, Kimberly to name but a few. And then there was Custard Creams. Custard Creams are a biscuit sandwich with a dollop of vanilla, not custard (I don't actually like custard) flavoured cream-esque substance between them.

As a boy I used to eat them by the dozens.

Then as time went by, they seemed to become passé. I didn’t want bland Custard Creams. I could have colossal chocolate chip cookies or magnificent muffins. My tea time snack had moved on. I was a sophisticated cosmopolitan man about town now. I wanted new and exciting taste sensations.

That was until recently. I was in work and one of my wonderful colleagues had bought a packet of Londis brand Custard Creams. I was having a cup of tea so I thought sure I’d have one. It was amazing. On top of all the biscuit-y goodness that was teasing my palate it tasted like nostalgia. And since then I’ve been hooked. I’m on about a pack a week. I may need to see if I can find a confectionary rehab programme.

2) I really enjoy working in Muji. It’s a very relaxed atmosphere, my colleagues are great people. The customers are usually pretty nice. I haven’t had any bad ones anyway. I know one or two have appeared but I’ve been lucky to not have to deal with them. Instead I get to chat to nice customers who are pretty chilled out, (in fairness, its hard to get stressed out about buying pens,) don’t mind passing the time of day with you and being friendly.

As part time in between jobs go. Its pretty cool.

3) As a symbol of a something that is supposed to be about love for one another and human compassion the Crucifix is pretty fucking severe. In the grounds of Mount Argus church there is full size crucifix with a statue of Jesus nailed to it.

I know I’m not the first person to point out the hypocrisy of Christian (or any) religion to profess a love for mankind and yet to have such a history of massacre and brutality. This is not an original thought. It is however something that continues to this day when we should all have reached a state of enlightenment.

Instead, when we send our children (mankind’s…not mine obviously) to school they are still being emotionally blackmailed into believing that Jesus endured the tortures of having spikes driven through his extremities and died nailed to a cross for their souls. Catholic guilt starts with the Catholic guilt trip.

4) For a more succinct take on why religion is bullshit I suggest you take in the works of George Carlin. When it came to religion or any of humanity’s bullshit and hypocrisy, George was truly one of the great minds of the last 100 years. And he was hilarious. As a comedian his material is unparalleled and his influence is immeasurable. If you’re a fan of any contemporary comedian worth his salt, then you will have felt Carlin’s reach in their work.

A clever and erudite man, George Carlin was as controversial as they come. His disregard for the falseness and hypocrisy of fame led him to seek out an alternative path. He turned his back on a successful career in light entertainment comedy in search for something more fulfilling. He became one of the most challenging and outspoken voice of the 60’s and 70’s. The only thing that could compare to his anti-authoritarian feelings was his love of language and he managed to tie these beautifully together in his piece called ‘7 words you can never say on television.’ If you haven’t heard it, stop reading this bullshit and go find it. Get some use out of the Internet for crying out loud.

5) Spanking. What is that all about? I’ve a pretty liberal outlook when it comes to sexual peccadilloes but honestly. Has anyone ever really taken a sexual pleasure from being on either end of the act of the smacking a bare hand on a bare ass? Don’t get me wrong. I’ve done it. But purely in a ‘sex is fun, lets have a laugh’ kind of way. I’ve gotten no particular pleasure out of it. Is it supposed to be taken seriously?

I only ask because my housemates seem to get an enormous amount of enjoyment from it. I can only assume they are enjoying it because they are always doing it. Seven or eight slaps a time. Judging by the yelps of delight he is the spanker and she the spankee. I might be wrong, I only have what I can hear morning, noon and night to go by. Each to their own I guess.

6) I wanted to a list of ten things but I’ve decided I might try hold off on some of them for proper blogs. So in the mean time, here are some things I recommend you go find and enjoy.

Questionable Content. It’s like a rom-com-indie-pop-techno-babble-sci-fi-sex-triangle web comic. Its been keeping me amused.

George Carlin. I talked about him earlier. He will make you laugh and think. I would suggest albums such as Class Clown, AM/FM, Jammin in New York and Life is worth losing. You can probably see most of his material on You Tube.

Shutter Island. An old fashioned mystery thriller directed by Martin Scorsese and a movie that finally allowed me to take Leonardo DiCaprio seriously as an actor.

Water Music by T.C. Boyle. A bonkers brilliant book that a friend gave be to read. Set at the end of the 18th Century showing a side of London that Dickens never wrote about and the Jungle adventures of an explorer trying to make a name for himself in the world.

House M.D. It can be a little repetitive with its mystery illness/trial and error/ find the cure formula but the characters in this programme are so well crafted that it is much more interesting as a study of people than a medical drama. Hugh Laurie is outstanding and Olivia Wilde is incredibly hot.

He Drinks Tequila by Crystal Swing. Awesome!!!!

So there you go. Just a little to give you some kind of an idea of what’s going on at the moment. Normal blogging service will resume later in the week.