The Times, They Are A Changin'

I was recently back at a stag do in Dublin. There was rugby, there was beer, there was a strange concoction imbibed from a milk jug. The usual.

The night in its enigmatic current swept us along drunkenly from pub to nightclub, whereupon several bouncers on Leeson Street actually bartered with us to enter their respective clubs. One of them said: "Right lads if you stand by the window up there and make the place look busy, the barman will sort you out with a few pints."

Let's face it: these guys wouldn't have even looked twice at us when Dublin was in the boom years. I was once turned away from a club in those days for hiccupping, swaying slightly and actually being overly polite to the bouncer.

Then our chances seem to be scuppered when a bit of a fracas (being the french word for punch-up) broke out in the group. There was a scuffle and some heated exchanges within the stag party.

So what happened next?

Well all I can say is, it says a lot about the post-recession nightclub industry in Dublin, that the same bouncers from beforehand hesitated for a moment then resumed ushering us in with a wink and a hearty 'now listen, behave yourselves lads!'

The recession: making bouncers less choosey since 2008.
CB

The Catsitter Cometh

To: cbrennan31@hotmail.com
Subject: Favour
From: LeftyMcRyan@googlemail.com Date: Fri, 19 Aug 2011 10:21:58 +0100

So question - could use a housesitter/catsitter for next two weeks. Ps3, bbq, daily house cleaner and a very short commute to work. Any chance I could interest you in the job? Instructions are pretty straightforward:
1. Food - basically, just make sure there is always food in his bowl. If it is near empty, add one pouch of cat food and some tinned fish. Add 5cc of lactulose to the food. We'll leave it all on the counter.

2. He likes to escape out the windows. So, if you open a ground floor window, block it with a sofa cushion - block it well, he is a sneaky bugger. And just be aware that he might get out. To find him, there is a plastic container with some cat snacks, just go outside and shake it a bit - he'll come running.

3. If you notice that he hasn't eaten during the day,or appears uncomfortable/constipated, leave a note for Juannie (the cleaner), letting her know. There is a notepad on the counter where you can leave her notes.

4. His brushes are on the shelf above his food. As I mentioned, main thing is to pay attention to him, make sure he's eating. Belly rubs that sort of thing. He has lost some weight due to his stomach issue and we need to keep him happy and get his weight back up, which is why we wanted a cat sitter.

5. If you aren't going to stay here at night, leave Juannie a note so she can leave extra food for him.

6. If needed, vet number is on chalk board, but feel free to call us.
BBQ - keys are in the red thing by the front door. Move gas out from underneath the bbq and to the side before connecting it. If you could, bring the gas inside during Carnival, just in case.
Help yourself to anything, except the wine underneath the microwave.

Our numbers in Canada are on the blackboard.

Help yourself to the computers.

Juannie will be in during the day on the weekdays, and might stop by on Saturday.

On the last day, just leave the key in the house and close the door.

I think that is it - might send a few other things later as they occur to me.

Movies are underneath the tv. I'm assuming you can figure out the tv - any troubles, give me a shout.


To: LeftyMcRyan@googlemail.com
Subject: Re: Favour
From: cbrennan31@hotmail.com
Date: Tues, 23 Aug 2011 19:31:42 +0100

• Firstly, maybe it's best you don't mention to anyone that I couldn't open the door at first push. Nor that I ..... had a problem with the child locks on the drawers. Those things are fiendishly tricky.


• Then I couldn't find the tinned fish. Out of frustration, I drank all the wine that was kept under the microwave, and then Charlie and I indulged in what can only be described as heavy petting.


• The only experience I have of petting cats is watching Ernst Blofeld in old James Bond movies. He seems to know what he's doing.


• Seriously though, where do you keep the feckin tinned fish? You have to understand: the world of cats and tidy kitchens is alien to me. I come from a land of dish-filled sinks and rancid leftovers.


• He did try to bite me on occasion whilst I was petting him...is that usual?


• At one point, I swear he growled at me. Is that usual??


• The lactulose stuff: I've watched my share of ER, and I've heard cc's referred to before...but I've no idea what they are. Is it the same as mililitres? Bearing in mind that I'm dealing with laxatives here, and the wrong dosage could be fatal for your carpet.


• As for the gas cannister: thanks for the offer, but I'll leave it well alone for safety's sake. The last thing you want to see when you come back from holidays is a pile of smouldering rubble and the remnants of furniture which you once owned.


• I'll also keep the windows shut, I don't fancy a game of 'hunt-the-tiger' around Paddington. I probably won't stay most nights during the week, but will hang out there this weekend. Me and Charlie can have a few beers and reminisce about all the mice we've killed and/or furballs we've coughed up.


• That's one hairy cat. I mean, I left the flat last night and from the state of my clothes it looked like I had inappropriate relations with a yeti. Any suggestions? My own hair fell out a long time ago, so I'm out of ideas.


• Despite centuries of technological advancement, few televisions can be adequately operated with just one remote control. And yours is no different. I can turn it on, but can't get any channels. Help?


• Is there any wireless access in the house? And if so, do I need a password? I may just bring my own laptop over at the weekend. Aint no porn like your own porn, as my grandaddy used to tell me.

That's it for now. Peace out

CB

To Err is Human

Some people have complained that I got the dates wrong in my last blog, in that it was posted on 8th January, despite stating in the blog that it was two months before St Patricks day. I did post the blog on the 17th January, but for some reason didn't register as such on the blogsite. Those darned technogremlins.

In any event, dates aren't my speciality, a fact which my love life can readily attest to.

CB

January

January. Gennaio. Janvier. Januar. Eanáir. Enero.

The name comes from the God Janus, who in Roman mythology was the God of doorways, beginnings and endings. Janus was traditionally depicted with two faces, which explains why most people start the month smiling, full of cheery optimism and hope, and end the month a miserable sourpuss of bitter resignation that this year may actually be quite similar to the last.

If ever there was a month that needed a dedicated blog post to cheer it up, it is this one. I would therefore like to point out the things I love about January.

I love the tension that emanates from every smoker who has almost lasted one cigarette-free week: "Cranky?? I'm not fooking cranky, WHAT MAKES YOU THINK I'M FOOKING CRANKY?? WHAT????! PRICK!!

I love the way people wear gifted clothing items that were clearly selected by someone who didn't quite know their taste or size, yet don't have the heart to return them. It's a month of garish scarfs, tight jumpers and oversized jackets.

I love the cold which forces me to curl up in the foetal position every morning thinking, this must be what a bald husky feels like.

I love how people faff about with new gadgets, with which they are technologically out of their depth, whilst pretending they are perfectly at ease with them. Like the guy who got the headphones to his iPad tangled up on the buttons of a stranger's oversized jacket whilst trying to disembark the tube at Liverpool Street this morning (as natural as it is to watch the latest Hollywood blockbuster on one's way to work).

I love the mixture of agony and confusion etched in the purple face of every jogger that pants past me on my morning walk to the tube station. And how the streets will be jogger-free in about a fortnight's time.

Dammit all, I love YOU, January. But I just feel we need some time apart for now.

Eleven months should do it.

CB