Nice try Dr Dave. I think this warrants a full post, seeing as how i’ve been avoiding it lately. Sorcha genevieve lindsay. 6lb 12oz. – Well done her and mom. No congrats for you Dave. All you did was have a little fun while i was puking on your couch.
Happy Easter Mr. Kane!
This is sort of strange to say on a website, but I don’t feel like going around each person individually.
Abby and I have broken up. It was coming for a while, and it’s both mutual and amicable.
However, needless to say, it is also very sad and I’m gutted. I know that you are worried for us, but I’ve disabled the comments on this page. Message me or Abby if you wish, but please don’t write on our facebook walls.
Much love to you all,
Stevie.
I had a messed up dream last night.
I was in the IRA, going out on a very important mission. Naturally, I had my crack team with me: Paschal, Mullan, Mullan’s wee brother.
For some reason, the Ra had decided that now was a good a time as any to crack down on anything not Irish Catholic, so we were being sent to smash up a stem-cell research laboratory, or some facsimile thereof.
Despite the obvious competency of the team involved, I was feeling a little less than confident. There didn’t seem to be a plan, so I arranged to make my own way to the insertion point. I drive to a nearby power station, load a bullet into the pipe of my 9 mm Beretta and head through some woods.
I get to the laboratory, which is cleverly disguised as the Y.I. swimming pool and see the rest of the team pull up in a shitty brown minibus. The Mullans and Paschal get out, armed with limp chipboard planks. I get really pissed off, tell them to put the planks down and come round the back of the bus to formulate a proper plan.
Unfortunately, some jobsworth from the laboratory comes dandering out and asks what we’re doing. Paschal goes to “talk” to him, as we continue to discuss, which means he gets into a fight and the bloke shouts “We’re being invaded by the Ra!” I pull Paschal off (Suits you!), shout “Abort!” and send the lads off in the bus. Before I go running through the woods, jobsworth gets a good look at my face, because we are the first Ra men in the history of Ireland to not wear balaclavas.
Anyway, I ditch my jacket and hat in the woods and saunter along the street as the Saracens come flying past. I walk through town, somehow knowing where I am going. I have a sense that Paschal was caught, but I know I’ll find him in some hotel. He must have been released without charge.
I find the hotel and walk nonchalantly in, through the corridors, trying to ignore curious glances. Suddenly, Paschal erupts from a room, wearing nothing put a loosely tied smoking jacket and sporting a huge cigar. He pulls me in and tells me we have to lay low for a while. I look around the room and see three naked teenage girls in his bed…
..and that’s where it ended.
I swear I haven’t made any of it up.
So a public defender at court said she wanted to internet-stalk me and I directed her to this site. She emailed me later telling me how amusing she found it, so i started looking back over the posts.
It’s bloody hilarious at times. At the risk of quoting “Fran” Mulhern’s classic, we’relikebeverlyhills60210 line, I do think we are a very funny lot…
except Brian.
Has anyone heard that old song?
It’s about this dude that is coming back from prison, and asks his love to tie a yellow ribbon “round the old oak tree”. That way, he’ll know if she still wants him.
In a tear-jerker of an ending, the bus rounds the corner to see that the tree is covered with ribbons.
For some reason, my family remembered the ending as a moment of despair, because the oak tree had been replaced by an orchard or forest or something, and in an even more tear-jerking reversal, every single tree has a yellow ribbon around it. Personally, I thought our version was better.
My journal page from the day I was returning from Philly has a sketch of a plane on it that I made while half-comatose during a delay at Gatwick. Underneath it says, “I’m comin’ home, I’ve done my time…”, the first line of the song. Paschal picked me up at the airport, with my mother in tow. As we drove up to the house in Glenbank, I see my mother has tied a yellow ribbon around every branch on the shrub she had.
Anyway, this moistness-inspiring tale is my long way of telling you that I’ll be back on the 24th of December, and Abby will follow me on the 30th. I’ll also be in Rugby over the New Year, celebrating my Ten Year anniversary of being in Philly with the girls.
As always, looking forward to it. Your couch is free, right Dave?
Not only a black man, but a man who can actually speak, and actually sounds like a president, is president.
Not only that, but he’s Irish.
Here’s to O’Bama.
I’m officially grounded for the winter. No more jumps until April, when it’s warmer and not windy.
I tired yesterday…too windy.
Today? It’s snowing outside.
This weekend was a dud for jumping out of planes, as it was too windy, so I only have this week and weekend left to complete four jumps and finish my AFF course before the dropzone shuts up shop for the winter.
Not sure it’s going to happen.
Hi all
Just to formally announce that despite my nutsack related drama a couple of years ago, Lynda is 15 weeks pregnant. So the little troupers still march in military fashion.
Needless to say we’re delighted. Might have another house party where we can put the blackboard out the back again and summarily ignore all the baby name suggestions attached thereon.
All jokes about red-headed babies and stern words with Paschal aside, we’re due in April.
Ain’t life like a box of chocolates?
Dr Dave