Week Twenty Seven

This week I have the pleasure of introducing you to my new favourite weblog - The Loving Spoonful by the lovely Niamh. This is a brand spanking new food blog and lads her recipes are deadly! I love the way she writes, too. Basically I want to marry her. Meseff and Himseff are gone mad into the new recipes lately and our eyes are after wearing two holes in this girl's blog already! Om nom nom!

Now let's get down to business.

Monday 5th April

After four lovely days at home which were mainly filled with BBB's excited voice saying "Take a picture! Take a picture!" we headed up to the Big Smoke and checked into our hotel. You can only imagine our delight after four nights spent sleeping in seperate beds (I was grand actually because I had my electric blanket, but poor BBB had the sofa bed that his feet stick out the end of) when we walked into our room to discover our uber bed!

The joy! The delight!

And in true BBB style he exclaims "Look at this bed! Take a picture!" And so I did:

We spent our first night lurking around the city and taking in the sights before I introduced him to the WONDER that is the €1.99 chicken fillet roll from Centra. €1.99 for a tasty and filling roll - shur what more could you ask for?

Not cheese, cos that's 65c extra.

Tuesday 6th April

Today we went to the Guinness Storehouse. Lads, it was deadly. Usually I hate and am bored by touristy shite like factory tours but this was actually brilliant! Needless to say BBB couldn't cope. And I couldn't cope with how delighted he was. Shur God love him.

After the tour we went for lunch in what is probably my favourite restaurant in Dublin. I love it because I like the food in there, but there is just this one thing that irks me. For the most part, the staff are lovely and friendly, but one or two of them just give me ire. Like for example, the fella who met us at the door to seat us.

Now for the record, I think it's important when you work in a shop or some other public place to be nice and friendly at all times, but there is such a thing as being too friendly. Like as in over the top fake friendly. As in "I'm deadly cos I work here and I act like I own the place so I'm going to act overly familiar towards you" friendly, like the fella who seated us was. There was something in that laid back Bon Jovi mid '80's way he swaggered to the table as if he was seating us at the kitchen table of his own house that made me want to rip the poxy piercing out of his goatee'd chin.

I'd love to be like:

"Sorry do you know me? No? Oh. Right. No, it's just the way you're talking to me there that gave me the impression that you knew me. Now what are the specials?"

Anyway after lunch I was planning a major assault on Penneys. Needless to say I was going on and on about it, and BBB just didn't get it.

"I just don't understand why you are gettin so excited about a shop", he was saying.

"No, you just don't get it. Wait until we get there, and then you can judge."

We went into Penneys anyway and he was obediently following me through the aisles as I had my preliminary scan when we came to the shoe section, which is right next to the men's section.

"That T-shirt is nice", he said, pointing to the men's mannequin.

"Yeah it's lovely", I said.

"Wait it's...it's only four euro! Th.....this T-shirt is only four euro!" he goes.

"Yeah I know", I said.

"Look at this shirt! It's only NINE euro!" he squealed.

"BBB I know", I said.

"Here, hold my bag", says he, thrusting his belongings into my outstretched arms before bounding off into the clothing jungle.

"Look at this! No, this is nicer! Oh my GOD! SIX EURO! Jen - I have to try these on!"

Stop lads. He is so funny. I love shopping with him. He came proudly out of the changing room to model everything he picked. Every single thing he tried on looked amazing on him. I suppose that's what happens when you have a body like a fine cut diamond. In all the kerfuffle, I never got to look around or try anything on because we had to meet someone at 7, but we said we'd come back the next day for round two of the Penneys Grand Slam.

At 7 we met with a friend of BBB's and went for a few drinkypoos in the Hairy Lemon before going to meet my friends later at the Porter House. It was SO good to see them again. I have been kind of drifting along in the little world that I built for myself in Pavia so it was good to touch base again and see what everyone is up to. They are all crazy busy with their finals and the like, which made me all excited to get back to Dublin next year and finish up for myself.

After a while BBB and I decided we could drink no more and meandered home down Grafton street, accidentally getting a big mac meal and a triple whopper meal on the way.

Om nom nom.

Wednesday 7th April

Instead of the Penneys expedition we went on the free walking tour of Dublin, after which I ticked a major to do off my to do list when we met my cronies for lunch in the Gourmet Burger Kitchen. Lads, ANY burger and ANY drink for a tenner. I got the falafel burger which was scrumptious. My only qualm was that I couldn't pick it up and eat it burger style. I had to approach it with cutlery, which sort of sucks the joy out of the burger experience, to be honest.

In the afternoon we finally got back to Penneys but it was so packed and there was such a queue for the changing rooms I just couldn't face it. So we decided to just walk on through. I was absentmindedly looking around me so I wasn't really paying attention where we were going so I grabbed BBB's hand. It felt a bit small.

Suspiciously small.

I looked up.

I was holding some Indian fella's hand.

I didnt know how to react really. I'm not equipped for this kind of scenario. It hasn't happened to me since I was six and myself and Mammy were walking down Lady Lane in Waterford and I was off in a daydream and I went to hold Mammy's hand but I held some businessman's hand instead, WHO LEFT ME KEEP HOLDING IT until I copped on, and Mammy walking along behind us pissing herself with the laughing.

Anyway I just dropped his hand and turned to BBB who was bent double with the laughing, and the two of us nearly pissed our knickers laughing the whole way through Penneys.

After that we lurked around Dublino and then headed back to the room where BBB stayed while I went out and met my partner in crime for a drink, during which the most spectacular double-fail in history came into being.

We were sitting down minding our own business by the door of the pub, which, incidentally, was glass (can you guess where this is going?), but was CLEARLY marked with the name of the pub on it in sticker and a big steel handle. Anywho... the next thing this big poncey eejit swaggers down to the door, fag in mouth, pint in hand and WALKS STRAIGHT INTO THE DOOR. I am talking pint all over his t shirt, concertina'ed fag in his mouth like. He turned around and ran back up to his friends laughing. But he wasn't laughing as hard as we were, oh no.

About a half an hour later anyway he decided to come back for more punishment, the glutton. He sauntered down to the door and turned around to all his friends and goes "Look, it o-pens", in a fake-retard voice WHILE PROCEEDING TO PULL INSTEAD OF PUSH. So in fact, it didn''t open, oh no. He realised his mistake and quickly pushed the door and went outside, pretending it didn't happen while everyone inside the pub was inwardly dying of the awkwardness.

Classic.

Thursday 8th April

Well today is the stinky day that we have to go back to our hovel in Pavia after our lovely holiday.

Some bollix.

But I have to say I'm really looking forward to going back to Dublin in a few months. I love living in Dublin. Everyone always says "Oh I hate Dublin", but that is only because they have never lived there. As much as I am looking forward to going back to Dublin, it makes me a bit sad to think that my time here is slowly coming to a close.

Anyway we got back to Pavia and I went straight to work. I came home then and died a merry death in the bed.

Friday 9th April

Today I had the pleasure of meeting Laura's lovely parents. Now first let me outline the fact that I LOVE Laura. I think she was put on this earth to do fun activities with me and just generally be a lovely and admirable person in my vicinity.

Well after meeting her parents I know why she is like that. As we say in the Deise - she's from good stock, boy. Her parents are only edible! Her mother, first off, is a SUPERMODEL. I nearly fainted down dead on the floor when I saw her! I mean I saw pictures of her before so I knew she was gorgeous but in the flesh - I couldn't cope! Her beauty was hurtin my eyes like! And as for her Daddy - shur wouldn't you only run away with him! And didn't he whip out photies of Laura when she was little - he is so proud of her. Stop now lads, I was gettin a lump in me throat. Sadly, Laura said she was feeling dodgy so we went our separate ways.

Saturday 10th April

I texted Laura to see how she was and she was on her death bed. She was up all night sick she says. That's very unlike her now, she must have a stomach flu or whatnot.

I got her crackers to be munchin on in the supermarket and I called over to check she was still alive. She was. Only a small bit though. She was in bits, the poor thing, so meseff and himseff ran down to the pharmacy to get her some smelling salts and the like. I felt so sorry for her. I gave her a big cuddle cos I loves her.

Big mistake.

Sunday 11th April

Today meseff and himseff minded our business all day and then he made lovely focaccia and we sat down and had our dinner. Then I settled in to watching a film on the 'puter.

Then suddenly, and without warning, I came down with a dose of the vapours. I was feeling a bit light headed, a bit nauseous. I thought it was because I've been eating too much bread and now my intestines were punishing me, but it quickly became clear that it was something way more sinister! Laura was definitely after giving me stomach AIDS.

I was rolling around on the ground moaning and roaring. This might sound dramatic but if any of you have ever had gastroenteritis you will know that this behaviour is entirely appropriate. Then it all came to a terrible head. It was Tramore all over again.

"BBB!" I was screaming from inside the bathroom.

"What's happening? Can I get you something? Water? Pills?" he was shouting from the other side of the door.

"Yeah Love, I really need you to...put on some music", I said.

"What kind of music?" he asks.

"I don't give a shit JUST PUT IT ON!!!" I roared.

As if I care what kind of music is drowning out the sounds of my retching.

"Ok, ok!", he goes and puts on some Florence and The Machine.

I wish he hadn't. I really love florence and The Machine. But now and for the rest of my life I will associate that album with pissing out my arse.

Sigh.

Week Twenty Six

Monday 29th March

Oh my God the excitement! I'm going home on Wednesday! I spend most of the day making monkey noises and giving BBB excitement digs, in between running around and organising everything.

Tuesday 30th March

Today while BBB was at college I scrubbed the room to a sparkling shine. There is no WAY I am coming back off me holidays to a lacklustre hovel. Now I don't mind cleaning usually because I do it against the clock. To add the bit of excitement like.

But today folks, I did things a bit differently. I did them in me nudie. Just to see like. Just for an experiment. BBB has me doing things in me nudie a lot when he is not here. You see, he is always doing things in the noodle and it gets me wondering. It gets me curious like, what's so great about it?

Answer: plenty.

Wednesday 31st March

Couldn't sleep a wink last night with the Oakwood Syndrome. You know, when you are doing something amazing the next day and you are so excited you can't sleep. We got up at the crack of dawn and headed off anyway.

Now I feel I should just explain that I hate travelling. I get up in a heap for two days either side of any journey. I cannot stand it. I become an antichrist like. So my tactic with this is to put the headphones in and try to block it all out. BBB's strategy on the other hand, is to ask me every five seconds am I alright and why am I so silent. He will be fairly silent himself in a second when I dig the mouth off him.

Anywaaaaaaaay, after an hour on a bus, 2 hours flight and 2 and a half hours on the train, we finally got to Waterford, where I found out that my Daddy got off work early just to collect me. Awwwwww Daddy, you're the best!

Lads, I couldn't believe it. BBB was just fantastic. He was all shaking hands and claps on the back and chatting away no problem. I was like, he is so cool. For a minute like, I actually wanted to be him. If I ever go down to meet his family I won't say a word for a week I'll be so shy! His mother is coming up to visit us soon. If I was on meds, I would definitely have to up them for such an occasion.

I wish I was on meds.

Anyway BBB ended up going to watch the match in my brother's house with my father. "Ah lovely, now I can watch Grey Gardens", says I to myself, seeing as I rang Daddy weeks ago and asked him to Sky+ it for me. I sat down, jim jams on, snack in hand, snuggle sequence engaged, only to find that Mammy had erased it. Lovely. I was dying to see that, like dying. The original one like.

Tangent: I can't watch it on the interweb cos I can only find Divx links for it, and even though I have divx player downloaded onto my laptop, every time I open a link to a Divx player, it makes my interweb freeze and I have to close it all down. If a nice person would like to explain to me what I should do, that would be wonderful, please and thanks.

Thursday 1st April

Today we got the train up to Kilkenny (€11.40? Robbing bastards!) and had lunch with the lovely Gemma, who changed my life for the better with her roasted carrots!

Now it's no secret that I'm not into vegetables. I do like some of them, but I tend to eat the same ones all the time because the rest of them are an affront to the delicacy of my nature. As for carrots, I usually accept a spoonful with my Sunday dinner, but then I have to smother them in butter and eat them really fast first thing so then I can eat the rest of my dinner and wash away the non-taste of them.

But this time things were different - Gemma gave me roasted carrots and good lord. I nearly ate the fork an all! Fantastic they were! So fantastic that as I write this, myself and BBB are planning to have them with our dinner tonight!

Whatever about the roast carrots though - the dessert! The dessert, lads! It was to die for! Meringue roulade that she made herself. It was like art. I couldn't cope!

"Jesus look at that! Take a photo of that!" I said, and we were all so preoccupied with taking photos of the dessert that we forgot to take any of the four of us. We're smart like that.

Gemma courteously dropped us home to Mammy's then where Hazel and my nephew Jack were waiting. Lads now, couldn't cope with Jack. I wasn't able like. Running around the place he was! He even has a little dance that he does! Chest pains. Had to restrain myself from doling out the Love Digs.

We went out to Hazels then, where it was love at first sight between Hazel's husband and BBB and they went off to the pub while myself and Hazel went upstairs and had a fashion show. Ah, fun sisterly activities!

Hazel drove back down to the pub to collect the two boys anyway, and wasn't BBB after drinking 4 pints in an hour. The poor child. He was all starry-eyed gettin out of the car. And while inhaling a kebab. And also while snoring in my ear all night.

Love Digs.

Friday 2nd April

Today we had our walk around Waterford and I busted out the Shaws card. Only got two pairs of jeans though, I'm very disappointed in myself.

In the evening we went to Jac and Darragh's for dinner. Now lads, I actually wish ye were all friends with them so ye could all go to their house for dinner. It was the best dinner ever. Pea and mint soup to start with parma ham and a dollop of creme fraiche (every girl's best friend). Om nom nom. Lemon sole and concertina potatoes for the main that would make you want to eat the plate. All washed down with Bellinis and for dessert, white chocolate and baileys cheesecake. Now how is a person supposed to cope with the deliciousness? I had to have a lie down when I went home!

Saturday 3rd April

I was sick all night last night so I was a broken woman come morning time. I was having a nap on the couch, tangled up in BBB when Mammy woke me up.

"Jennifer!"

Me then, "Wha? WHA?" still asleep, jerking up off the couch, arms and legs all over the shop. You know the way you'd be.

"I need your help with something" says she.

"What is it?" says I.

Well that's what I tried to say but my mouth was so dry the words got stuck in there. My fringe looked like this:

"Just come here, I need help." she says.

"Ok" so I peel myself up off the couch, green in the face, with BBB looking on, horrified. "This must be serious", I was thinking.

I followed her down to the end of the hall.

She turned around then, straighteners in hand,

"Will you do my hair?"

Give me patience.

After I had a little lie down we went out to Tramore with Mammy and Daddy. BBB was delighted. Then he got a big dirty fish and chips from Dooleys. I didnt get anything, mostly because I will never again eat anything in Tramore for as long as I live after the incident.

On Saturday night it was me brudder's 40th birthday party. Oh lads I was feeling rough. It was touch and go like. I was looking fabliss though, if I do say so meseff. It was a great night though but I had to go straight home afterwards cos I was holdin in the puke.

Sunday 4th April

Went up to Mahon Falls today where there was - and this is no joke - a fish and chip van. I'd say he made a fortune! BBB couldnt cope with all the gorgeous scenery. Here is a lovely picture of us up there:

That's one for the mantelpiece anyway.

We went back to the house then, knackered and starving, to a lovely turkey and ham dinner. Well, I say "turkey and ham dinner", but what I really mean is "brown sauce dinner". I introduced BBB to the joys of brown sauce. He was suitably impressed. We relaxed then at home for the day with two mental kids running around and all my family. It was lovely to be all together. Or nearly all together as the case may be cos my sister Laura wasn't there.

We booked our tickets on the train the next day and got ready to hit the road once again after a lovely few days at home. I had the best time. I really needed to get home even if it was only for a flying visit. BBB did so great with my family, I was so proud to have him as me fella. We spent the next few days in Dublin, but shur ye can read about that on Monday.

Piss off - I'm on me holidays!

Well lads! As ye all know I'm on my lovely holidays in Ireland so if ye came here looking for the usual Monday post ye can piss off - but piss back on Thursday when I'll post it as soon as I get home!

In the meantime, if it's entertainment you're after you might as well have a gawk here, here, or perhaps even here. Think that might cover a bit if something for everyone.

If these don't tickle your fancy though, and you would rather get sucked into a puzzle vortex that will keep you busy until Thursday (and beyond)- here you go! I guarantee you will be losing sleep over where the calipers are. Don't even get me started on the sextant!

I'm having a lovely time on me holidays - BBB is still alive, which is a good sign. Hope ye are all having a good week. Until Thursday lads!

Christian! ('Slater)

Week Twenty Five - Subterranean Homesick Blues

Oh Holy God. I have it bad. I actually have a physical NEED to go home. It's giving me pains, like. Although that could be less to do with the homesickness and more to do with the fajitas we had for dinner last night.

To be honest lads I haven't been up to much this week, just crossing days off the calendar until the 31st when meseff and himseff are jetting back to the motherland for a few days. This week's grey days were punctuated by mortification and drunkenness though. Here's the highlights:

There is a new fella on our floor. A nice fella now, English speaker with a lovely accent. Didn't know what it was though until Tuesday night when I was taking scones out of the oven and he said:

"That smells really good."

"Ah thanks", I said and then went down the room to put one on a plate for him in the spirit of neighbourly goodness. Knocked on his door then and we had the chat about who we are where we come from. Turns out he's Canadian. He doesn't speak Italian and he is here to do a course for two months. Grand.

The next day anyway I was going to a funk gig that one of the lads is playing at and I said I'd invite the new fella along, seeing as loads of the lads speak English so he wouldn't feel like a tool. I went down to his room anyway. Knock knock.

He comes out.

"Oh hello."

"Well are you doing anything tonight?" I goes.

"Nothing much." says he.

"Do you like funk?" I ask.

"Nah not really", he goes.

"Pity now cos I'm going to a funk gig tonight and I was asking you along."

"What about your boyfriend...?"

This, like most things to do with awkward romantic situations, was lost on me. So I continued on, oblivious:

"Nah BBB's not coming, but all my friends speak English so no Italian is required."

"Um no, I'm not really into funk. Thanks though. Have a good night."

"Oh. Right. Eh, thanks, see ya."

I turned around then and walked slowly back to my room like "what the fuck just happened?"

A feeling crept over me. It wasnt until I was halfway back to me room that I copped on to what it was.

Mortification.

How did I know? Because all the classic symptoms were present: the big red head on me, the shaky knees, the SAS.

I suddenly copped on.

He thought I was asking him to come out in a rosemantic fashion.

Behind my boyfriend's Big Brown Back. Christ.

I thought about turning around and explaining myself, but that would only have done more harm than good.

Morto.

Now every time I want to go to the kitchen and BBB is not there to cover me I stick my head out the door and suss out the situation and then I leg it up at top speed, wrench whatever I need out of the fridge and then peg it back to the room, all the while praying he doesn't emerge from his room.

I just have to keep this up for two months, then I'm home free!

The rest of the week anyway was spent counting the seconds until our special Friday night: 89c prosecco in our scunders.

I woke up Friday morning, buzzing off me head, then I went to the supermarket and got 2 bags of jellies and 2 bottles oof prosecco for under €4 (I love Italy) and went home. In the evening I went for a cocktail with the girls, then I returned home to prepare the area for the calamity ahead.

After dinner myself and Gianluca took off our trousers (obligatory) and put our legs under the duvet and sat side by side drinking the prosecco straight from the bottles.

The next thing I remember is waking up Saturday morning.

I went into the bathroom to tinkle and the next thing I looked down and I was wearing a pair of red knickers.

That's odd.

I could have sworn I was wearing pinstripe knickers last night.

And what's more, when I went to pull them back up, something wasn't right. Something was definitely...amiss. I squirmed around a bit, and then I realised.

They were on sideways.

As in a leghole for a waist like.

I took them off and put them on again properly and went out of the bathroom laughing my head off.

"What's so...jesus!" BBB goes.

I looked down. There was a giant "scraw-eb" on my thigh, at least 4 inches long and 47 inches deep. It's ok though, it was balanced by the dinner plate-sized bruise on my other shin.

I have NO recollection of how either came into being. Or how I came to be wearing the red knickers.

I do know it was a BRILLIANT night though.

On Saturday then I had the world's worst hangover so we stayed in and relaxed for ourselves.

Then BBB suggested I try a puzzle game on the interweb.

4 hours later, he is rubbing muscle relaxant cream into my shoulders and neck and trying to pry my bloodied finger from the mousepad.

He should know better than to show me puzzle games.

I fucking LOVE puzzles.

On Sunday then we started PACKING OUR SUITCASE!!!!!

Excitement!

We'd be there folding up stuff and every three things folded we'd do a little excitement dance. Then we'd fold another three things. The give each other Excitement Digs. You know the ones. They are very similar to Love Digs.

Love Digs are what happens when you love something or someone so much that instead of hugging it or kissing it, you want to dig the head off it. Like my nephew Jack, for example. Every time I see a picture of him, instead of wanting to squeeze him and kiss him and hug him, I simply want to dig the little red head off him.

BBB suffers from a similar condition, called Love Seamuses. Sometimes he looks at me and goes:

"C'mere to me you!"

And as he pulls me onto the bed he INVARIABLY gives me a seamus. I mean without fail. He's after giving me at least twenty.

"Jesus! Me leg, ya bastard!"

"Oh no, have I seamussed you Love?"

"What do you think?"

"Here, give me a deadner back".

*Offers arm.

WHUMP!

"Mamma mia, you bastard!"

"Bastard is for boys and bitch is for girls."

"Oh right, sorry Love. You beech."

Lads I love when he speaks English. He says wonderful things like "Have you got your menstruation?" and "He wanted to go out with her but she renounced him."

Renounced, like.

Love Digs.

Even Better Than The Real Thing

Lads. Lads.

I didn't make the finalist list for the Blog Awards.

I'm very sad.

I also want to raze the Irish Blog Awards to the ground. Only a small bit though.

My main feeling though is one of pissed-offedness with myself for choosing the wrong category. I can't help but feel that I should have chosen Humour, seeing as there isn't a dry knickers amongst my followers of a Monday morning. Up and down the country bidets are preparing themselves for their Monday morning pissy marys.

"It's only a Mickey Mouse award! It doesn't matter!"

This is a statement that does not make me feel better in any way, and I have heard it four thousand times since Friday so I DON'T want to hear it any more, please and thanks.

I don't mind about the other blogs because I quite like them and I think they deserve a nice award; the killer is that now I have to find something else to buzz over! I was tipping along nicely on the buzz off the Irish Blog Awards. Now I have no buzz! Well I had a bit of a buzz on Friday night when I drank a bottle of 89c prosecco in me knickers. Don't worry, I didn't drink it on an empty stomach - I had a bag of pick 'n' mix for me dinner. Actually that was a brilliant buzz. It was such a buzz that meseff and himseff decided to drink prosecco and eat pick 'n' mix in our knickers next Friday night as well. And every Friday night after that.

Plus we are going to Ireland in 9 days.

Ok I just realised that I already have plenty to buzz over. It would seem the problem is somewhat solved.

Now to find some pride Arnica.

Anyway as my lovely Daddy would say - fuck it, what harm, forget about it! I have allocated the lines above to being a pissy little bitch about it and now we are going to move on to pastures anew.

That's right, I've decided to have my OWN Blog Awards. Right here, right now.

First up, the award for Best Blog by a Mary Harney Hater goes to Grandad at Headrambles.

Congratulations on being a legend, Grandad. I think we are all in agreement that Mary Harney's job could be better done by a trained monkey.

Or an untrained one.

Or perhaps a zombie?

Next up we have the award for Best Blog by a Bearded Bonsai Enthusiast. It took me a while to get through the thousands of applicants for this popular category but in the end the choice was clear - congratulations Andrew of Chancing My Arm, you must be so proud! I hope things are going well with you and Stella.

Now for the much anticipated Best Use of the Term "Galloping Gee Rot" in a Blog award. The gong goes to the lovely Rosie at The Spanish Exposition. Well done Rosie, I hope your gee has returned to its former glory!

And finally, the futuristic "Best Blog That Doesn't Exist...Yet" goes to my loyal follower Niamh Doherty for her future Irish Blog Award-winning food blog. Get the finger out Niamh! I need an engaging post on the 7 best uses for creme fraiche!

No, seriously.

That's about all I have time for folks, seeing as I promised myself - or rather BBB made me promise myself to put the pedal to the metal on the aul thesis today. I hope ye found something new to tickle your fancy in this post. Have a gawk through the list of blogs I read over there on the right. If I read them, they must be deadly, like.

Until next week, I'll soldier on.

Week Twenty Three

This week I said something absolutely mortifying in Italian. How unlike me.

Monday 8th March

Today is my lovely sister Hazel's birthday, but more importantly in the global scheme of things, it is International Wimmin's Day. This is taken very seriously here in Italia. Wimmin all over the country will be gettin a little bunch of yellow flowers from their nearest and dearest greasy eyetalian man.

Not me though.

At first I didn't even know it was International Wimmin's Day, but when I rolled over, bleary eyed this morning BBB was standing next to the bed and goes:

"Best Wishes Love."

"For what?" says I.

"It's International Women's Day", says he.

"Oh. Right. Thanks....zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz."

That day we were in town and there were fellas lining every street selling those little bunches of yellow flowers. Every fella walking past had a bunch of them to bring home to the missus. That's when I copped on that it was such a big deal. BBB said he was bringing me to my favourite shop to buy me something nice and I was pleased. I kept expecting him to stop and pick up the yellow flowers though.

Something you should know: I LOVE flowers. I love them. They are so lovely even just looking at them puts me in a good humour for the day. And if a delivery man comes to the door with said flowers? Well then. You are just in me good books for the rest of your life then, aren't you?

So we went to my favourite shop and he bought me a lovely pair of satin jim jam knicks-style shorts. As I type I am having a sexual love affair with them. No go on the flower front though.

On the way to the pub then he goes:

"I hates buying girls flowers, so I does."

Oh dear.

"I like to give presents that last, flowers only die."

"Right. That might cause a few problems then, seeing as I love getting flowers."

"Do you? Shit! Don't worry, I'll get you loads from now on."

That's more like it.

Tuesday 9th March

It was absolutely freezing today and then in the evening it started to snow. And snow. And snow. And then snow a bit more. Approximately eleventy million foot of snow fell.

While BBB was at outdoor soccer training, it should be noted.

Hates that, boy!

I am so over this whole snow thing. It was deadly at first, but then it gave me the worst cold ever, rendering me completely and utterly over it. I am so ready for my lovely Spring coat.

Piss off snow! I want to eat strawberries outside!

Wednesday 10th March

Now it should be well drummed into yer heads by now that I hate snoring. I cannot cope with having a snorer within a square mile of me.

After BBB stood on goal for an hour and a half in the snow, naturally he had a terrible case of the sniffles that night in the bed. And I had a terrible case of the Axe Murderers. He was doing earth rumbling snores into the back of my head and I couldn't take it any more. The Night Time Crazies struck.

"Jesus CHRIST!"

"W..what? What happened?" he says, still half asleep.

"You're snoring the ear off me head!"

"I am not snoring! I am breathing."

Oh he was breathing alright. Through a fuckin trombone by the sounds of it.

Thursday 11th March

Lads can we talk for a minute? There has been something playing on my mind a lot lately, since BBB officially moved into my room.

It's...it's....

It's the toilet brush.

When I moved in here I had to fill out a checklist for the office, ticking off all the stuff that was in the room.

Chairs...tick!

Waste paper basket...tick!

Toilet brush....oh no.

They put a toilet brush in every room. Which means that the person who lived in the room before you's poo particles are still thriving in your bathroom.

I mean, I just don't believe in toilet brushes. They are filthy. They are full of poo like. It just lurks there in the bristles, festering. So I happily hid it behind the toilet so I never have to look at it and become upset.

I believe that Domestos and lashings of it is the way to go on the toilet cleaning situation. Leave it in there overnight and if you die of toxic fume inhalation in the night, at least you can rest easy knowing your toilet is sparkly clean and fresh, should the paramedics need to wee.

I just cannot get my brain around "cleaning" your toilet with a toilet brush.

Anyway since BBB moved in, it has happened a few times that I go into the bathroom and it's there. Out from its dark corner behind the toilet. Basking in the warm tungsten glow of the bathroom light. Challenging me.

And because the shower head is in the main part of the bathroom, ie it is a shower head sticking out of the wall, when you use the shower water goes everywhere, including into the end of the toilet brush holder if it is not in its safe dark place. This results in a murky, shitty soup lurking stagnant in the end of the toilet brush holder.

Lads I'm upset.

Plus I can't do anything when it is in view. Like, every time I go in there I feel like it's looking at me. It's like when you are bursting for a wee but you know there is a spider in the bathroom. You know it is at leaast 6 feet away from you, because you can clearly see it there, but you are afraid to make even the tiniest of movements in case you touch off it and it runs its filthy hands all over your body.

I have to stop now, it's all gettin a bit much for me.

Friday 12th March

Today Ailbhe kindly informed me via facebook that my blog had been shortlisted in all three categories it was nominated in.

Delighted, isa?

Did a dance, did I?

Yup!

The Blog Awards will be on the 27th March, but I was after booking my ticket home for Easter for the 31st March, because I didn't have a notion of when they'd be on, shur. I'm goin mad now though. It would have been some laugh to head up. I hear there does be some drunken tomfoolery going on up there, horseplay even. I do enjoy a bit of horseplay.

Sigh.

Saturday 13th March

Had a tremendous argument with BBB today. Went off to seek sanctuary in Laura's house. Then we went and did a bit of retail therapy. Well she did, I watched.

I eventually headed home to find a ginormous bunch of flowers on my pillow. They were tulips, my favourite. And there was a yellow rose in the middle of them, which I prophetically explained to BBB on Monday means 'sorry'. They were gorgeous.

I wanted to fuck them out the window though.

Sunday 14th March

All is well in the woodshed again. I spent the day sorting out my Etsy shop and in the evening we went to the pub for drinks and snacks and while we were there I made another linguistic faux pas. My best so far, if I do say so myself!

We were sitting in a snug with some other couple (I hate that about Italian pubs - they always seat other people up in your feckin ockster) and BBB was naming out animals in English and I had to say the Italian names.

"Cow! Pig! etc" he goes, and I was calling out the answers.

Next question:

"Sheep!"

And I said, yes that's right, I actually called out:

"Pecorina!"

And I didn't even realise what I was after saying until BBB was bent double with the laughing and the couple next to us were averting their eyes uncomfortably.

That's because the Italian word for sheep is actually pecora, and what I called out was pecorina, which means doggy style.

Let me die.

Pray for me

Now lads, I don't know will I be able to post up my long post today because on my way back from the supermarket this morning I bollixed up my hip afresh. How is this affecting my posting I hear you asking? Well it is a little known medical fact that my hip bone is directly connected to my two typing fingers, thus rendering me unable to finish this week's post.

In real life though the pain is making me feel sick and I need to close the shutter and lie on the bed and make low pitched whiney noises for the rest of the day. Or at least until BBB comes back from the pharmacy with drugs for me.

Trust me though, this week's post will be worth the slight delay - I have some thoughts on toilet brushes that I feel the need to share with my public. I think you will find them interesting and insightful.