Tuesday, May 29, 2001

I am a tired boy today. The weekend was fan-fucking-tastic. It contained nearly every indgredient necessary for the ideal weekend. Good mates. Good craic. Great sex with a beautiful young girl. Drink and drugs in excess, and junk food. Today I am tired. Yes things kicked off on Friday with the arrival of Billy...
Billy is a tall, skinny young guy who often has the air of being annoyed. He's an excellent soccer player, he's sharp, cutting, yet stays within the bounds of being good natured. He's got a beautiful girlfriend and they seem very happy together. He's my best friend.
Billy arrived after finishing his final exams. He's off to Holland for the summer next weekend, so we wasted no time.
Johnny is a small guy from Spiddal with long black hair. He plays with his cards very close to his chest. He's not ones idea of a typical accountant, yet that's what he does. He's excellent on the guitar and is currently getting a band together. He's a tough fucker to tackle playing football, what with his combination of skill, sneakiness and toughness. His house is usually the scene where we turn ourselves into wasted fools.
We got drunk on Buckfast and stoned on some excellent hash, which I'd gotten off Cormac last weekend. We hit the nightclub and right at the end, just when I had given up all hope, I spotted and ended up talking to a girl called Roisin from Louth.
Roisin has long curly brown hair and flashing brown eyes. She's very good looking, very easy going and seems to take life with a well proportioned pinch of salt. She's got a beautiful body and is an excellent lover. She's one of the best kissers I've come across in months. I like her a lot.
We met again last night. Her friend Tara, she and I went to see Kila. High energy trad. After months of slagging Johnny about liking them, I had to admit they were great. Last night anyway. I want to see the girl again soon. I'm thinking about her a lot.

Thursday, May 24, 2001

Sometimes I'm hit with the sensation that I don't know when I have a good thing going. I'm in very poor spirits today and stressed out over my current financial miasma. I think it's the first time in my life I've actually been stressed out about money. I'm over five grand in debt, which is not so bad. This is not bankruptcy or any such, but it will require a lifestyle change in order to get things out of the deep red. I have spent some time today organising some back up cash. I plan on cashing in my pension, selling my PS2 and getting expenses and tax refunds sorted out. I hate this shit. My personality hasn't been designed or nurtured to be worrying about cash. Perhaps I've been spoilt so far in this regard. Yesterday evening while playing soccer, something of the protective veneer of my Peter Pan self conditioning peeled away. I've been letting things get out of hand even more than normal recently. I've dug my self into an unhealthy pit of my own design. The drugs have been the worst of it. One would think I'd learnt my lesson years ago. I don't feel good today.
I haven't gotten laid in nearly two months. I would like very much now to meet a intelligent, vibrant, good natured, beautiful girl who's a tiger in the sack. Yes, that'd be smashing.

Wednesday, May 23, 2001

Back after a spell. The soccer final mentioned in the last post was lost. True to my word, I did get tanked anyways. More than tanked. Because of the presence of many work colleagues, I decided the best thing to do would be to eat some hash, the logic behind this being that I wouldn't have to skin up. I'd done it before years ago and it turned out to be a lot stronger of a hit than I anticipated. The same was true this time. After eating hash, the high begins to come on in waves. It's almost like your body stores whatever the active chemical is until a certain threshold is met and then releases these packets of it into your system. I can at one stage saying to myself that I couldn't handle another wave like that. There were at least two more. I don't know how I made it home. I spent the entire next day in bed stoned. Unpleasantly stoned. I literally got up for twenty minutes to undercook a pizza. What a mess.
Cormac is my brother. He's a bright, charismatic, funny, good looking mysognist. Women love him. He's taking more drugs these days than normal. He's a little quieter when sober, a little quieter when drunk. He works hard and is often tired.
Mairead is my sister. She's one of the most sparkling personalities in my life. She's intelligent, good natured and passionate about her views. She's a true leftist who always gives everyone more than a chance.
Stiff is my sisters boyfriend and a good friend of mine. He's bright, witty, and loyal. He has reduced me to tears laughing many times. He's a writer, artist and business manager of his own comic. He and my sister are good for each other.
I visited Dublin last weekend, where these characters dwell. Mike was also there. It was a great weekend. A group of us got flashed a pair of tits outside a nightclub. They were the nicest tits I've seen with my own eyes. They were fantastic. Dublin was celebrating it's belated St.Patricks day celebrations. I saw Jairzinho with the 'Samba Soccer School'. He would be one of the people still alive on the planet, who would be closest to an idol to me.
Next weekend has the appearances of being stone fucking mad. Mike, Billy and Monsignor are all finished exams. We're getting ecstasy for Friday night. Damage.

Tuesday, April 24, 2001

The weekend is over and now the hard uphill struggle to Thursday is underway. Claire has been and gone. She is indeed a beautiful, sensitive and intelligent girl. She doesn't really drink, which kind of scuppered my plans. I got pissed and stoned Friday night and made a lascivious lunge at her, but was rebuffed. Some you win, some you were never going to win...It had been an awkward evening anyway, because there was another girl there who I'd slept with before, but who I'm not attracted to. She was pissed drunk. She kept staring at me all night and making sloppy passes.
To be fair to Claire, she's a delightful girl and really easy to deal with. She's not very demanding and happily sat in the pub as I got drunk. It's a shame she's so fucking good looking. Anyways, I think she did quite a bit of reassessing on my personality and I'd imagine she's gone back to Paris with the impression that I'm quite dysfunctional.
Mike is a half crazy, vibrant young guy who has a great sense of humour. Sometimes he talks too much. He uses sarcasm often and very well. Sometimes when people meet him for the first time, he freaks them out. His wavelength is high amplitude. He's one of my best friends. Claire, he and I went out Saturday night. We got pissed and listened to a shit band trying to guess what song they were going to play next. We went back to my apartment and luckily 'The Fascist' didn't seem to be around, so we smoked a few joints and drank a few beers. Claire went to bed. We smoked a few more joints, drank a few more beers, Mike headed away and I went to bed nicely wasted.
Yesterday was Monday and wasn't too bad. Work is busy and I was in from ten till ten. Today promises to be as bad. Ireleand play Andorra tomorrow and we are into the final of the interdepartmental soccer competition. I may not be able to play as a result of groin, thigh and back muscle sprains. I plan to get tanked one way or the other though.

Thursday, April 19, 2001

This infernal contraption just timed out on me and consequently quite a bit of typing is unretrievable which is a bit shit. Twig is a young drug dealer who doesn't have a mobile phone. He calls me up and asks me if there's anything I want. He's calling around this evening. Claire is a young girl from Paris. She's beautiful, sensitive and intelligent. I met her in Vienna eighteen months ago and have seen her since in Paris. She's visiting me for the weekend. I don't know what her stance on drugs is, so I must schedule this evenings circumstances carefully. I've never even kissed Claire, but the idea appeals to me considerably. I must proceed with caution.
John is a small, pixie-like guy from up North. He's got a glint in his eye and is always up for a laugh. He's sly.
Martin, is a young guy also from up North. He's got a nice guy look and feel about him, which the ladies love. Behind the cuddliness, there's a sharp mind at work.
Peter is Johns friend. I don't know him too well. He seems pretty sound. He has ginger hair with a reclining hairline.
We four attended a club last night after a two hour conversation about fucking and chicks in general. None of us scored. I had a strange boxed head on me after lots of ecstasy last weekend. I sat down most of the time trying to present the illusion of control. I'm hungover today and can't concentrate on work. Hence this.
I have to edit this because I posted the same fucking thing twice. My paranoia as a result of losing a previous post has become too acute. I'm hungry for junk food. Savoury junk food. Like eggs and beans and chips. I'm not fat.
My leg hurts. I injured it playing soccer last weekend and then spent some time dancing on it that night. It's not getting better. I have made an appointment with a physio, so hopefully she'll sort me out. I hope to fuck it is a she, because it's painful up around my groin and ass and I would feel uncomfortable with some hairy guy rubbing me up the wrong way in the jocks department.