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Bock’s Saturday

I’m in no fuckin mood to write anything today.  Let me alone.

It’s been a non-day in many ways and it looks like getting even nonner as the evening wears on.  A bland, grey, overcast ripple in the space-beer continuum.

I didn’t even manage to crawl out of bed until about eleven, which was not unconnected with going out on the town far too early yesterday, and staying up far too late.  (Name of figure of speech: Litotes).

I didn’t even enjoy the Market very much, stopping only to buy a loaf of wholemeal bread and a half dozen extra-large eggs before heading to Nancy’s for my customary Saturday-morning coffee and read of the paper.  But even that little pleasure has been spoiled for me lately by a goddamn stalker.

I jest not. 

This person is someone I decided to bar from making comments here on this web-site.  No explanations and no apologies. In my absolute dictatorshipness, I sometimes make such decisions because, you see, I pay the bills and therefore I can do that if I like.

Anyhow, this individual has lately started to turn up in Nancy’s looking for me on Saturday mornings, and of course, if he ever finds me he’ll be smartly told to go fuck himself. 

It pisses me off intensely that I can’t even enjoy my grumpy Saturday morning wrestling with the Sudoku an my own, in peace, unmolested, without some fool demanding to know why I won’t publish his idiot opinions.

Luckily, I’m surrounded by informants, agents, minions, henchmen and underlings, all of whom work hand-in-glove to frustrate this stalker in his efforts.

Howya lads. Any sign of Bock?

He just left.  He’s gone on a mission to Somalia to fight pirates.  He’ll be back in about a year.

Oh.  Right.  Thanks.

And as the door swings shut, I peep out under the bar counter.  Is he gone yet?

‘Tis safe now, Bock.  Come on out and take off that false beard.

Thanks lads.

Don’t mention it, Bock.  He’s a gowl.

The afternoon wasn’t a great improvement.  Bullet and myself watched the Ireland – Argentina game.  When I say watched, I really mean that we sat in front of the TV with our eyelids propped open by toothpicks while eating amphetamine sandwiches and cocaine-flavoured nachos.  Thank God I didn’t accept those free tickets the other fella offered me yesterday.

Fuck.  Dismal.  The only bit I remember is when OGara lost his mind and for no reason at all attacked one of the Argentinian players from behind.  Dreadful shit.

That was followed by the All Blacks demolishing Wales, which wasn’t quite as bad as Ireland’s performance last week.  At least Wales put up a bit of a fight in the first half, and I was able to snooze every now and again when the boredom got too much for me.


Not good.

To cheer myself up, I thought I might do a bit of baking, which isn’t something you’ll hear me saying very often.


You see, I’m not a bad cook, when it comes to things like Indian food, or maybe a bit of a casserole, and I can do an assortment of sauces to dress your perfectly-prepared and presented steak.  I can prepare a selection of roasted vegetables to accompany it.  I can make you a nice soup from the freshest ingredients and I guarantee you’ll like it.  My barbecued spare ribs in honey and cider are legendary.

But I don’t bake.

That was why I just had a feeling that the muffins wouldn’t be a huge success and as it happened, I was right.  The muffins were not only unappetising: they were revolting, soggy camel-turds that the dog refused to eat.


Could it get worse, I wonder?

Parkenstein suggested going out, but with my luck today it’ll probably turn out to be a great big ball of shite.

16 replies on “Bock’s Saturday”

holy moley, sugar! that’s a lot of writing for someone not in the mood to write! a stalker? jaysus, that’s incredible! how did this person find you? y’all are close to 100,000 in population? let’s hope your sunday is better. xoxoxo

(when i get that urge to bake, i make some coffee and wait for the urge to pass.)

Kit Bán — Ceart go leor. Ní bhockfaim leis.

Savannah — I can’t help it. The nonsense just seems to tumble out when I get near a keyboard.

The person found me because I tend to write about my habits, including pictures. However, if he ever actually finds himself facing me it might be a sorry day for him.

I must agree that the Ireland game was pretty dire – I resorted to sweeping leaves. The Wales game wasn’t bad though, especially if it had only been 40 minutes long. Was there and England game on as well ? I forget….

As for the stalker – is it Rudolph, or whatever his name is, from the shit computer shop ? It’d make sense as it’s the right time of year for him to come out.

No. The stalker isn’t Blitzen, though it would be great if it was.

There seems to be serious trouble within the Ireland camp, in my opinion. Ronan looks like he’s lost the plot completely. And you’re right — the Wales game was far better, though in the second half it reverted back to the All Blacks script.

England? I didn’t see it myself, but presumably they won comfortably.


Bock! Engerland were hammered by SA! Fortysomething – six! But I’m sure the bright-eyed and bushey-tailed Sunday-you knows that :)

This stalker stuff? They’re a pain in the ass, let me tell you! I once had an ex ring me 20 times a day with an extra long text for each time I didn’t answer the phone. I never found out how he got my number, but he was in my phonebook as ‘DON’T ANS’ after I answered the first time. 3 weeks of this and I was totally fed up with it, the Garda told me ‘it wasn’t a crime to be in love with someone’ – gee, thanks – and thankfully the calls stopped about a week after that. Hopefully your stalker will get the hint soon.

Glitterkitty – I’ll see your 20 calls and raise you to 100.

Bock – should you not fictionalise your habits, keeping the essential truth but disguising location and stuff that might locate you? I, for instance, am really a woman pretending to be a man with a beard.

Jesus Bock, I wish I had a stalker..It would give me so much more street cred. and great excuses. You know……”Sorry lads I know it’s my round but MY STALKER has just arrived, gotta go”.
As for the rugby..I work in the retail business and the general concensus with my customers last night was that our game was gone to shite but on the plus side, to a man (and woman) they felt that England getting hammered made up for it all.

I’d feckin LOVE to have a stalker.. the closest thing I have is the madman at the end of my street who dances on the pavement outside his front door in his bare feet whatever the weather. When I walk past him during these performances he always grabs my hands and gives me a twirl…

hey a girl’s gotta take what she can get in these recessionary times…

You should try baking your own bread. I promise you its piss easy and the result is far superior than any bread you’ll ever buy.
Just mail me and i ll give ye a few recipes if yer interested.

Bock, you should have left a spare ticket for the Argentina match for your Stalker fiend.

As a class One idiot who drew the short straw of the rugby week and actually witnessed the Borefest at Croker in person, I can say without hesitation that Monsieur Stalker would have learned his lesson and kept well the fuck away from you in future lest you inflict further barbaric punishment.

I can hardly think of anything worse. Barring, perhaps, a fortnight in Gitmo or Playa des Inglés.

As for Ronan, at this stage I’d be less than surprised if Warwick is picked ahead of him for the upcoming games against Clermont. When someone announced on the choo-choo that O’Gara was given the “Man of the Match” award, more than one commented that we all must have fell asleep at the same time and missed a few moments of genius from him.

He’s having a crap season so far, and to be honest, while I’m not too bothered about how he plays for that “Irelands call” crowd, we want him back on form for the real team.

I don’t think that ROG has performed at his best since they split up his partmership with Peter Stringer. Judging by Stringer’s performance on Tuesday last he deserves to start next time out

True, KB, He’s never really gelled with any of the other scrum-halves at Munster or IRFU level.

Be interesting to see will Munster opt to pair them for the game in Llanelli on Friday night. Stringer has certainly put his poor performances from last season behind him, especially, but not exclusively based on his performance against the All Blacks.

On his day he has few peers and confirmed last Tuesday he’s still one of the gutsiest players ever to put a Munster jersey on.

Everyone is too quick to write Stringer off, including me. He was absolutely outstanding against New Zealand. I thought it was very hard on him that he didn’t get to play in the Cup Final, even if the reasons were understandable, but on his day he can turn the whole direction of a game with some inspired little move. And he’s as tough as they come.

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