Munster 19 Perpignan 10
Here’s a thing you won’t see every day: Bock speechless. That’s right – without speech. Or to be more precise, without voice. I woke up this morning with no voice at all after yesterday’s screaming, and I’ve been communicating all day by gestures, comical facial expressions and waving a piece of dried [...]
It’s been a difficult two weeks and there’s no point pretending otherwise. Ever since we witnessed Leinster taking Toulouse apart in a finely-controlled explosion of clinical inspiration, Munster people have been a little more restrained about making predictions. There’s been an awful lot of “Ah, sure, we’ll see” or “Time will tell”. Bock has been [...]
I hate the word “workaholic”. I think it represents all that is stupid and illiterate in modern society. “Alcoholic” I can understand, but where did “workaholic” come from – “workahol”? Or “chocaholic” – chocahol, perhaps?
What about fuckahol?
But Alcoholics Anonymous is something else again. It’s the anonymous bit that I love: you have all [...]
There’s been an accident, they said.
Your servant’s cut in half. He’s dead.
Is he indeed? And will you please
Bring me the half that has my keys.
I’m getting worried about Wrinkly Paddy. He seems to be hitting the sauce very hard at the moment, and he’s becoming abusive to anyone straying inside his field of vision which, admittedly, has shrunk to about two metric feet. I heard that he’s been wandering around housing estates knocking on doors, screaming at the people [...]
This is a poem by Wilfred Owen, who fought in WWI.
Dulce at Decorum Est
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went [...]
Smug self-satisfied moment coming up.
My very good friend Dickler delivered the goods in two tranches yesterday and today. One for The Bullet, a schoolboy ticket, and one nerve-frayingly late entry-voucher pour moi. Thank you Dickler. Thank you. Thank you again. Thanks. Thank you. Woooo Hoooo!!!!
Now we have a big decision. Do we rush home after [...]
It looks like Prodi has both of the houses.
It doesn’t take a brain surgeon to do rocket science. You don’t have to be Einstein to do plumbing. That’s right. You don’t need to be Einstein, you fool. You need to be a plumber!! I mean, let me alone! Carole Vorderman, for fuck’s sake? This person has cornered the market [...]
Bock is not big into religion, as you might have gathered. Bock, in fact, never sets foot inside a church, synagogue or temple unless, at the end of the ceremony, there is the certain prospect of free drink. I’d say that pretty much rules the mosque completely out, along with the Kingdom Hall.
So why am [...]
