And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stoopid...

"Well, I'm back"

I've been in Dublin the past 10 days. Níl aon tinteán mar do thinteán féin, seachas, mo thinteán. Back in October I decided that I'd be better off cutting Christmas in Dublin in favour of waiting for the Trinity IV. Good choice. Best fun I've had in months. I met a lot of new people but you'll have to excuse me, I've a terrible face for names. 'Specky' they call me, and 'bandy nose'...

Stopped for some food in the airport before I got the bus home, typically the food was cold, I made a complaint and the woman says to me "I'm sorry, I don't work here", then she just walks off towards the exit. Ignorant bitch. Niall's bidet on Friday started the week off with a bang, and a kip on his couch, (3 months away from home and I couldn't even stay on the Northside for one night).

Saturday, went out with some guys from Aughrim Street. Back to Nat's house and 'Cars' in HD, another night on a couch in a residence that wasn't mine. On the way home stopped off at the GMB for some IV cinematography. I still got the funny. Later on Sunday, Christmas dinner with the family, and I met my 13 month old niece for the second time.

The rest of the week was taking up by all things debate. Schoolies on Monday on about pharmaceuticals in the third world. Twas my first attendance at a debate in months, I remember it like it was tomorrow. Wednesday, judging workshop, first opp-ed banning private schools, with Ctolm. He and I both did 6 years in C.U.S., but not at the same time. F*ck me I'm old! - to borrow from Hefner parlance.

Wednesday night chaired private business again, It's a tough job but somebody's got to do it. Then did my second speech in a row in the chamber without notes, this one on immigration. Good times.

Thursday came the workload, The Kingsmill-Moore invitational, which surprisingly didn't have a Hist team, myself and Costigan having decided to let the Earley Brothers compete instead. I'm kind of nice like that sometimes. Oh in case I forget I've got a great story involving Costigan and some Sheep, but I'll save that for a later date. The last week in April, perhaps. Set up the Hist Conversation room for the feeding of the fifty, let Jamie think he was making the decisions, god bless him! The motion for the final was "That this house would abolish private property", and became a Capitalism/Communism argument. The GMB is a lot like a commune. Except without the free love or the Jonestown-style mass suicides.

Friday, I paid fees for second half of the year, not so good times.

The powers that be decided I was worthy of a Trinity student card (the fools!). Headed back over to The GMB where there was work to be done. Not for the first time in my life I was packing. A little later it was my finger on the button to play said IV Videos. The films were shot in the GMB, as the director should have been. Never underestimate the power of stupid people in large numbers, or the ability of people in large numbers to misread webpages, scrolled at an acceptable rate, in which their only job is to get a room number, and a position in a debate. Meanwhile Chris (4 Ents) & Orla were running around looking for a good beating stick, but they soon found out the main problem about running an IV, you just can't get the staff.

Saturday, packed my bag for Sunday's flight and went back to the GMB, where else, for some more button pushing. However due to the reluctance of a team from NUIG to turn up on day 2 of the IV, myself and Darren got to Dummy in two rounds. We'll be competing in the Tilbury House IV in Cologne in March so it was good practice. Last year we racked up 10 points dummying, this year we got 5 from two rounds. We still have it. I love dummy speaking almost as much as after-dinner streaking. It's not that I like the sound of my own voice, it's just that I like hearing myself speak. The first motion centred around a guy who wanted to drive the Jews into the sea, but not the way Moses did it, he actually wants to get them wet. It was while I was comparing the Iranian President's legitimacy to that of The King of say, Spain, that I on at least four occasions said "The King Of France", but would anyone have the courtesy to tell me what I was saying? No bleeding way. Of course it wouldn't be the last time i said summit stupid on that day.

Ross and Maggs walked away with all the prize money, but they were caught and made to return it.

Saturday night, another great final and night out. Unfortunately, I dance like I wank: it's fun, but it's not advisable in public*. After a few long goodbyes I left the club with a fwown on my face.

The next morning it was off to Belgium, not Spain with me for another few months. I've got a strange feeling I'll be back soon: I wish I knew how to quit you, (as Heath Ledger said to his dealer). A funny thing happened on the way back, but not to me.

It was cold when I got back, I made a pair of snow-shoes, but the heat of my feet melted them. Oh dear, what a pity never mind.

Went downstairs to the train station under the airport and bought my ticket back to LLN, "change in Leuven" they told me, why I couldn't just get it there, I'll never know.

I leave you with the latest bit of good news for fat people: thin people are delicious!


*(I was considering using the phrase "human consumption" there, but that would have been tasteless.)

Hey T.K., Orange you glad you asked me to update this...

One of my friends, who shall remain nameless, is coming over on Friday. He's taking the Ryanair flight to Charleroi. There's no need; they have plenty of flights there already.

I was planning on giving him a cordial reception, but I'm all out of Ribena, so I'll give him a beer reception instead.

Funny (first time for everything! -Ed) story about T. Kinsella, wait that's too obvious, let's call him Thomas K., actually:

Christmas party two years ago, there was a spot of karaoke. Tom got up and sang "Hot Stuff" while disrobing. There's nothing like a pitch perfect voice, and let me tell you, that was NOTHING like a pitch perfect voice. The rumours ARE true.... He sung like a horse! Must have been one of his off days as he is generally pretty talented at karaoke, the girls swoon for him and he's competed in a few competitions. Indeed, he's had many successes under his belt.

Well, got a lecture to go to, and I haven't had my lunch yet.

Remember, in the words of the Hoff:

"It's better to have loved a short girl, than never to have loved a tall."

Nothing to do with Sarkozy's Divorce, or Toast.

Oh, good evening.

You must excuse my filthy hands I've just been washing my face.

Today i had a few lectures, nothing major just algorithms and English Linguistics, good times. Then, pimped my laptop with Duke Nukem, Shadow Warrior and some programming tools - no, no not Tivo, tools for computer programming.

You see my laptop wasn't exactly the dog's Balearics to begin with, when it comes to the "Wow!" factor it hit the bulls-eye like a bullet from a... trifle. Having said that, thanks to the use of the hostel's PC, and my USB keys, I've been spending my evening playing Duke Nukem to the sounds of Nob Nation, The Colm & Jim-Jim breakfast show, and a selection of Hist debates from the last few years, including the God debate of last week.

My God, Costigan sounded almost accomplished, he what made UCD IV 2006 very 'interesting' indeed. On that occasion his string of barely coherent prose only in fact contained one (1) degree of celsius between each serving — or 1/6 of a "Kevin Bacon."

Of course I'm no JFK myself when it comes to public speaking, but at least I shy away from those regurgitated dead baby jokes, if not the less-well-known jokes about regurgitated dead babies. Horses for courses, I suppose, which incidentally is a well-known French restaurant.

Other news today included putting Miss G. Wylde, following a request to be Bebo stalked, up as my wallpaper, - on my laptop that is, not my room. That honour is reserved for my bank statement, which according to reports is 'outstanding'.

Today I also used a laundrette for the first time. Wow. Never say "never".. oops I said it twice.

Well, as the lemmings of fate fall off the crumbling cliffs of eternity I notice the hostels common room is about to close, (& that there are 8 hyperlinks in this post) so... buh bye.

Carlsberg don't do disorientation...

England in a Rugby World Cup Final !?

Sherry/ Curtis going to Worlds!?

Cubs in the cabin without me!!!?????

these being more significant than my tales of donating blood today, (mistranslated "bloodbank" as "bank", then spent hours trying to comprehend "compagnon sexuel"- not the french version: just the juxtaposition of "sexual" with a word like "partner", when "wasteland" or "non-entity" would have sounded more natural)

And so, ladies and germs, as the 4x4 of Destiny on the level crossing of Fate stalls in the path of the speeding freight train of Doom, and the signalman of Time rushes to fetch his camera, I notice I'm out of time.

Planes, Trains and autobuses...

An ordinary private computer science student from the College Historical Society, Aughrim Street Scouts, National Venture Scout Programme Team and Da Northsoide began his year abroad with a 6.25 flight to Charleroi (Brussels South). Now by 6.25 I mean 7.10 and by Brussels south i mean Frankfurt, Germany. Turns out Belgium was under heavy fog so the guys couldn't land the plane. It actually worked out well the best because I was only 4.5 hours away from my actual destination - a new record for R***air.

Anyhoo, queue a walk up to the nice people in the info booth in Frankfurt and the use of my best German. Discovered that the bus to Charleroi would shortly be outside the door, marvelled at the distance between Frankfurt and Brussels on a nearby map and got on the bus. 50 mins later the driver felt it was time to start moving. On the way we crossed the Moselle, and saw the only castle remaining on the river to have survived the war, which was nice, (the castle, not the war).

Despite the fact that UCL told me I could get a direct bus from the airport to the town, I decided to accept the advice of a kind stranger and hopped on the shuttle bus to Charleroi, the town not the cattleshed ("airport"). When we got to Gare Charleroi Sud, I heaved my 3 bags of over 35kg up the steps to platform 5 and it was off to Nivelles with me. In Nivelles i got a suburban train which went north to Brussels and back down to L-l-N.

Having taken several breaks on the way up the stairs on to the main street of L-l-N, I saw it. The best college town in the world ever.

Imagine if you would if Connolly station was placed smack bang in the middle of new square of TCD. Now imagine if only students got the train there, and the next station on was for a theme park. Now imagine if Stephen´s Green shopping centre was also placed in Fellows Square, but had the shops from Dundrum, and a basement bit with a Louvre-esque glass covered sous-terrain. Now imagine if all the main roads around TCD went under it, and every building (apartments, newly relocated Connolly and Stephen's Green SC had underground parking. What you are currently imagining is Louvain-la-Neuve.

After finding the hostel in which i would be staying temporarily, I went for a stroll around the batements. The place was quite noisy as 5 or 6 fraternity/sorority type groups were initiating their new recruits; press-ups, rolling around in beer and food, and generally being shouted at.

Then i went into the aforementioned Shopping centre and found the greatest toy shop ever, better indeed the ones I'd visited in NYC, Oberbeieber, Cologne and Brussels. They've got 6 foot tall Marsupilami's and loads of board games in a strange language called French and the best selection of Top-Trumps I've ever seen.

Nehoo, tis off to the lecture type thingies with me 2mo.

G