Thursday, September 08, 2005

Some Days Are Better Than Others

Further proof, then, that our gene pool needs some major dilution and that we need a whole pile of immigrants living in poverty to have any hope of having a decent football team in twenty years time. I said I had a bad feeling about it, I didn't think we'd get a result in that game but, having competed so well, I was still gutted. It was pretty obvious we weren't going to get a goal once France sorted out the mistakes they were making but then they didn't look like getting a goal either. Roy Keane bossed Zidane out of it and the defence hadn't given Terry Henry a look in all evening or at least they hadn't until... .

Coming back on the train this morning with one mofo of a hangover I wondered if it had been worth it. Well, as I said, watching football down here is difficult because of the way Cork people turn on the team if things aren't going our way. It's as if they think we're Brazil, all other teams are brutal and they're going to stand to one side and let us waltz right through them. Anyhoo I was hardly in the door 5 minutes when the first thing the first first person I met said was "they're shite" (not "we" - don't want to be associating with losers after all). Cnuts.

Speaking of the hangover, I'm starting to get a bit worried about the drinking. No matter what I drink, how much food I take on, how much water I remember to have, I'm still waking up feeling like death warmed up. It's now impossible for me to drink on a work night and be in any way effective the next day. Basically any more than 3 pints now and I'm fucked the next day. Not good. When I'm transferred to the States I think I'll give it up. If I do I'll be knocking the drunken Irishman stereotype people are going to have on the head. Being a contrary bastard I'll enjoy that.

And speaking of work I got an email when I came in that says "As you may be aware, you will be presented with a service award in March to commemorate completion of 5 years service with the company". Where the feck have the last four and a half years of my life gone? It feels like I've only lived here for two. *shudder*.

One good thing about my transfer (to Connecticut for October, November, December) is that I won't be around for this. No word of a lie; if those gits and their pseudo-emotional, depressing bilge were playing in my back garden I'd close the curtains, shut the windows and go out for a walk.
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