Back to Basics

They do things differently in Ireland, foxhunting just being one of them.


It’s been a while a while since an update and for the simple reason that for the first time in a very long time I am incredibly busy.
For the past 14 months my definition of busy is deciding which TV channel to watch whilst juggling with the right choice of wine and fantasising about women I will never sleep with, alas no more.

I cannot believe how quickly the last few weeks have passed since I started my new job. Time fly’s when you’re having fun but I have not been having much fun, just work more work, sleep and then work again. I never realised how little time for anything else one has when gainfully employed. How do working people do anything other than work?

The job is going great guns though and things have started very well. The people are great, the work interesting, the company prepared to invest and I have been supplied with all the standard boys toys; laptop & Blackberry (which makes a refreshing change from reporting into PF at SJ where you had to fill in a daily report as to how many sheets of toilet roll you had used that day on your very own abacus).

Speaking of the Boss, once again I have been very lucky in that my new gaffer appears to be a top geezer. Unless I report into someone I respect and like I fail so luckily for me my head honcho is a charismatic Irishmen, 10 years younger than me and 100 years smarter. He can cunningly persuade you to undertake ‘a little task’ and before you realise it you’re covered in paperwork & meetings but he appears 100% to be fair and honest; you can’t ask for more than that in a boss.

It’s fair to say I have defiantly learned from previous mistakes made and though I can get very frustrated at how long it takes to get things done I love every minute of it.
A new challenge is just what I required though starting a new job requires maximum concentration, something I have had not been used too for a while. It’s a right shock to the system I can tell ya; for instance a few days ago my body woke up and dragged me to the shower at 5.oo am!
By the time my brain had cottoned on I was washed, scrubbed, fed and on my way to work. In fact my brain only woke up fully when it realised I was putting a decent bit of unleaded into my Mums diesel operated car, luckily she was in another country and reading this is the first she will have heard of it.

In fact starting a new job is a lot like starting a relationship with a top bird. It either works out swimmingly, walks up the aisle, kids etc etc or you have the 6 month honeymoon period and then wake up one day with your balls cut off, let’s hope for the former. So as it is it’s so far so good, no glaringly obvious faux pas though accusingly the owner’s son in law of wearing his wife knickers in a crowded office came very close.

Every poker site has its problems!

Though I say I have not been having much fun that is of course not strictly true. Those that know the Spillanester know it’s impossible for me not to make time for play.
It might be a strange confession for a 41 year old bachelor to admit but one of the reasons life is so good and that I’m having a laugh is that I’m living with my parents with whom I get on famously well. On top of that I get tea on the table, clothes cleaned, washed and ironed and looked after better than most 2 years olds.

My social life has changed somewhat, the fact my parents are not the 'Spice Boys' has meant a rapid deterioration in my alcohol consumption level, in fact I would be so bold to announce that for the first time in 28 years I have adhered to the governments recommended daily alcohol allowance, hurrah!Also my cigarette intake has decreased from 20 odd a day to 3 a day. First one when I get home, one after dinner and one before bed time. They say a leopard can never change its spots which may be true but this particular leopard was fucking knackered and has found nirvana for the moment.

With the little money I have left and as a single man with a certain image to portray, I invested in the purchase of a motor car recently. Of course I consulted the James Bond manual and days later I was the proud owner of a car our super-agent hero drove in his last film,

http://cars.uk.msn.com/News/car_news_article.aspx?cp-documentid=1113551

Driving 60 odd miles to & from work mean absolutely no after work beveraging which is a slight shame as my colleagues have turned out to be a right good bunch and defiantly the group of people one would like the odd session with.
This in fact proved to be very true only last Saturday night when I attended the works Christmas party (two words guaranteed to have me break out in a cold sweat normally).

As literary legend Jeffery Bernard wisely observed

‘God preserve us from the Christmas office party, almost any party. I liked them when I was younger and used to go along in the hope of leaving them at the end of the day with a one-night stand. Now, I am delighted if I can procure a taxi to take me home at the end of the thrash…..’

Reach for the ground, the downhill struggle of Jeffrey Bernard.

My fear was derived from years of being the drunkest delinquent at the office bash, often making very unsubtle passes at the wife of a boss, telling a few home truths to work shy colleagues and generally misbehaving. I needn’t have worried. In a room full of approx 350 Irish people and 70% of the night being a free bar it was very unlikely I would be anywhere near the top of the rogue’s gallery and so it proved.

It was an incredibly good night; subsidised accommodation in a 5 star hotel, 20 thousand pounds worth of raffle prizes, free wine, a decent Christmas dinner with all the trimmings, a band, a disco, free drinks vouchers and a ratio of 3 women to 1 man (though naturally I went to bed alone sucking my thumb). Still, I woke up with a clear conscience and no p45 slipped under the door, a massive result in my book.

I have already been on a work trip to the big smoke and did have a little time to catch up with friends. On evening one I enjoyed dinner with the sis, the brother in law and the Swan. I love meeting up with my family and friends as it always ends in a good meal, a few decent glasses of wine and some great craic, this night was no exception as we revisited our favourite Chinese restaurant in Battersea. The Family were in fine form and it was only when the Swans girlfriends turned up a little later I remembered why I had re-nicknamed him ‘He who is blessed’.

Evening two saw an old school poker reunion and a fantastic 14-1 shot stupidly not backed.

Plans were made to catch up with a few old faces and have a decent dinner somewhere in town followed by a few scoops in the Victoria Sporting Emporium where in all likelihood, the odd game of chance and poker would break out.
The tradition is that the person with the most recent decent result picks up the tab; a nice tradition that ensures not only does the winner get to bask in some reflective glory with their mates but that they also have to pay for that honour.

With a line up that included Tristan McDonald (recent 3rd at the master classics in the Dam for a tasty 200,000+ euros), Tim ‘albi’ Amos (left top job to re-concentrate on his punting career that earns him shed loads) and Neil bad beat Channing (3 fine recent poker results for over 50 large sterling) all confirmed; us lesser mortals, ‘Miros’, ‘the Camel’, The Wardster’ Spillage and the Paperboy were licking our licks at a decent nights tucker. The Camel had priced up the bill payer and at 14-1 Andy Ward did seem like a value price.


Top Chap (i mean Andy not me)

Andy is not only a very generous and humble chap, he was also in my opinion the most likely to crack under the ‘shame period’ (as I like to call it), that embarrassing silent moment after the bill has arrived where everyone’s eyes divert to the floor to observe the tumbleweeds blowing through the restaurant. Added to this he came second in a WSOP tournament for a 6 figure payday in the summer it was no surprise that when the bill did arrive that he did indeed sign for it (a bad beat for Andy when Tristan phoned in sick, though he did have a result as the 2 expected no shows were indeed no shows). So thanks Andy. It was a great night and later I moved onto the Vic where I settled into the bar and met up with many old friends and real treat it was to meet the recent 1st time daddy ‘Dalzini’ and the zany chaps from Bluff magazine.

Now to an event that may have saved my life, England’s totally expected non qualification for Euro 2008.

Golden generation? Golden shower more like; not more than 1 world class player in the starting 11 and the final front 4 being 3 premier league reserves and an injured talisman that plays in a league that wouldn’t befit many pub teams.
Still I digress. With 20 odd minutes to go England equalise and thus should have ensured a lucky qualification to Europe’s premier football event. At the time I was over exuberantly celebrating the goal when I answered a call from the new gaffer and in my excitement I vowed to wear an England top into work the following day.
I work in an area that used to be a ‘sensitive’ area during the troubles and had not the better team have gone on to win the game I may not have been here writing this tonight.

And finally one last tale that has caused shock and outrage in our household. Recently the Mother and Sister were having a girlie weekend away in Lithuania that left the old fella, the brother in law and myself at a loose end. As was likely we all had a few jars and told a few stories, one such story was a new one to the brother in law and involved me telling him the tale about when my Mother and I purchased a blow up doll for the father (a story for a future blog)
That should have been the end of it. Imagine our horror when the next day the father and I returned to catch Liam (the brother in law) in a compromising position with the doll. Scroll down for the photographic evidence if you are not to easily offended.