who what where whu?

urgh.

just back from stag weekend in Madrid. Obviously there'll be no stories of any of the events.
"What happens on stag, stays on stag."

however, just had this txt exchange with one of the other members of the group:

"the canadians want to meet up with you! send a text to +35386XXXXXXX"

I reply:
"Erm... what canadians? I'm in the UK now"

"Nevermind! It was the ones we met in the bar on Friday."

I have absolutely no memory of meeting anyone at all. I can't even remember Friday or where we were.

nada.

damndamndamndamndamn


more lack of memories and recollections to follow no doubt.....

and a season ebbs on...

So, took my regular jog yesterday - 40 mins about once a month. Does me no real good but hopefully no harm. Then sunk 7 pints watching Arsenal be bitty. Maybe I've developed some kind of karmic keep-fit - jog and drink.

The game was dissapointing as we should have (finally) beaten Chelsea - it seems so long since we have. They were first to the ball especially for the first 30 mins, broke up our lackadaisacal passing but were no real threat in front of goal. Still, they were more of a threat than we were.
Baptista was ineffective again. He couldn't strike a fucking match. ah well, no doubt he'll go on to another club and score 50 and good luck to him.

Stood their watching it in a pub surrounded by women of a certain tan. "Mahogany moms" or something.

Maybe the sunbeds of Norf London have a "Goa" setting...

here's looking at you kid

Walking home and I'd just got off the phone from telling a friend how self concious I was that people were staring at me (I'd shaved my head that morning).
Then a very nice thing happened.

Walking up through Angel (London) I caught the eye of a very attractive girl waiting for a bus.
As I continued walking up the hill I took a sly look across to where she should be (oh as if you wouldn't) and caught her eye again - but this time she had moved around the queue to look up at me as I walked past!

me!

and she was cute! Really!

and what did I do? Yep - I kept on walking....

somehow I really think there should be a better end to this story. Or a point. Somewhere in all that, there is a point. And an observation on how men look at women and women look at men in the street. and people staring at freaky looking shaven-headed men.

but most importantly, the effect a look from a very attractive girl can have on a man, evidenced by the fact that I'm still thnking about it hours later.

if you find an address...

well, just emailed Jenn.... her friend Alex was quite hot.
make of that what you will.

he he

this is actually true, but the first page of my notebook is a ripped page. The first bit is a hotel name i stayed in and the second bit (in big bold felt tip pen is:
Jenn (Canadian) d*********@hotmail.com.

this makes me smile a helluva lot more than it should

move away; there is nothing to see. move away from the blog...

Howdy.
Haven't blogged in a while - mainly been pissing off friends by being an aresehole and getting pissed. But not necessarily in that order.
Honestly, I have nothing to report. Saw "Jarhead" - disappointing (superficial. Not that I want a searing indictment but I would like some characterisation. is that too much?). Got offers of work starting around end of Feb (if they come off) so better buy that ticket to Guatemala tomorrow. Am going to Aus in June/ July to be best man for a mate out there (it would be someone else but he can't make it). Got pissed with a mate, and ended up chatting to/ up two girls in a bar in Brick lane. They haven't got back in touch...

as i said, nothing to report. I'll invent something juicy. bear with me...

Sevilla

i was very ignorant of Spain before I came. probably still am. But I'd been told that the Alhambra at Granada was "the most beautiful place in the world". So high expectations and actually, these were more or less met! It really is a wonderful place and I'm glad I went. However, from Granada I went to Sevilla and truly, THIS is the most beautiful place I've been yet (save possibly Florence, but so long ago...).

This place is so beautiful I feel it my duty to offer a health warning. Don't take your girlfriend (or allow her to take you) unless you wanna propose. Going down on one knee at the Alhambra would be a tad naff, but after having had a day or so navigating the bewildering Moorish streets and discovering tapas in the afternoon/ evening and generally relaxing, to then go to the Alcazar... the layout of the Mudejar Palace and gardens and ability to walk back and forth (without annoying guards like the Alhambra) with the play of light and warmth and texture, to wander through delicate, carved spaces and then out into gardens and smells and running water... this allows a far better overall experience than Granada. Its not just the palace and garden but to know that there's a great evening ahead... yep, I'd propose in the gardens. Now (December) is nice with very few people around and relative peace but it would be nice to be warm when out of the sun too. I just have to figure out when its both warm, yet not deluged with tourists...

oh, and find a woman.

mind you, if you find the right person then aisle 5 in Sainsbury's next to the ketchup is probably the right spot too.

Why am I so dumb?

Well, maybe nothing apart from even more wistfulness would have come from this episode, but I can't help feeling I missed out. Again.

I'm sitting at the bar in Granada (O'Hanigan's) watching a bullshit football match I don't care about. Its just that I didn't have anywhere else to go and (obviously) I know noone here. The game is so bullshit that I'm the only person in the bar actually watching it (Portsmouth vs Spurs for those that care - Redknapp's first game 'back').

So, a really cute brunette comes up to the bar in front of me, makes an order then turns and says "Hola" in her best American accent. I say "hola" back but I'm completely confused as she's talking to the single, bald guy at the bar watching footy.
"How are you?" I ask.
"Oh - you speak English?" (now, I look VERY English. Or German. Though I'm 2nd gen Irish so this is a tad diengenuous. or dumb).
"Ye-es. How long have you been in Granada?"
I won't subject you to anymore but it really was as painful as this. Me staring at her thinking 'you are sooooo cute' and trying to remember to talk. Luckily she was desperate to talk so I let her.
She (her name was Sarah - anywhere between 19 and 22, American and with her sister who was studying in London) came back to say "Hi" again, and then once again to say goodbye as she and her friends were leaving. A couple of them were quite rightly looking askance at her chatting to lone-guy-at-bar-watching-sport (not an acronym for "S.A.D" but...).

Why am I saying all this? Because I had various opportunities and at no point did we exchange email adresses.

I'm an idiot.

Later I chatted to a guy who claimed to work in IT doing websites using designers in London who he was paying (too) good money for (bullshit in other words) and then some girls came along and then it all got very drunken and one of whom I snogged. Although she was lovely, I reckon this was just my horniness from earlier being satisfied.

why am I so dumb?

happy new year

urgh.
its 7.25pm and i'm still drunk/ hungover from new year revelry. Am i getting old? maybe, but then again, I had 2 bottles of champagne and a bottle of red (added to the 5 or 6 pints of Kronenburg I had earlier, while watching Arsenal be average).

memories of last night are sketchy. Think I was locked into an embrace with a woman at one point. had good craic with another coupla people and danced a bit (well, I call it dancing). Left the place feeling wobbly but happy, watching friends play table football in their front room. So, thanks to Ben for a good party I reckon.

mime is a cafe con leche, por favor

If coffee tastes like tobacco is it bad or am i just hungover?

yes, I've learnt "cafe con leche". As its the only coffee (hell, any drink other than "cerveca") that I know how to say, I drink it everywhere.
Like everyone, I learn food and drink first, hotels second (they kinda know what you're there for, so fingers and mime go a long way).

Flirting is trickier in a new language. I tend to use my hands (steady there) and knowing gestures. My mate thinks that he invented them but they're kinda essential to pass off ignorance and keep in the chase. Mime is ok (hell, my hands move when i speak in English so just take on more focus when I'm saying "eeerrrrmmmmm....") but you don't really need any of the above when a Columbian woman (21?) looks you squarely in the eye and says "69" when describing her tattoo of 2 dolphins. I'd been trying to say "pisces" the zodiac sign, wondering how not to just stoopidy say "fish" in Spanish. But no. She's just looking me straight in the eye and saying "69. Yes?"

well, yes. No mime needed. maybe some hand movement.
But not in this restaurant....

as it turned out, me and Joe left early. As I say, to my shame, I don't speak Spanish and hadn't picked up on his earlier gaffe (read the earlier link). I did pick up on other things (he can dance, don't let him deceive you) but I respected his need to leave. Admirably he said "feel free to stay, Rich" and meant it, but I was with 2 Columbian girls and knew that the sharks would start circling the second he was gone. and they'd speak Spanish. and they'd be able to dance. and they'd make them giggle. Nah, I decided to leave with dignity rather than (much) later and drunker.

should i have sent this? only time will tell...

As I said (are you reading this in the right order..?) I'm going through notes I wrote as I went round Spain.

Actually I never mentioned that but just wanted to say it to keep you on your toes.
Came across an email adress which caused a wince. hold on - I'm gonna email her - I'll be back...

just crafted the email. how long did that take to write?

about 34 years....

I'm wincing. Only learnt that in the last 20yrs.

Not expecting a response, but hopefully will make someone smile and feel good.

well, what would YOU say..? in fact did you get something similar??

I'm on match.com looking for lurve. Or lust. or just sex. Once I find any of these I'll know what I was looking for I guess. What I've had is a few nice afternoons and evenings. Nuff said.

There are quite a few people scamming along the lines of this corker:

"Good afternoon, also can be good evening.
First of all I want to name to you my name. My name - Irina.
I already very much during long time dreamed to get acquainted with the foreigner.
I have been involved always with England.
I think, that England this very good place to live and remove family. I think, it
England will like those people which want to work and happy. I think, it
I the good woman and I want to have the best life. I want to remove family, and I want
To enter into a marriage sometime! I the young woman. To me now 29 years and I think, it now
When I already enough adult it am necessary for me to think of a private life. For this reason
I have addressed to the Internet in search to my soul mate. Now it is very popular.
I understand from structure which you also in the soul mate of search and I would like to speak with you!
I am not confident anyway, that you receive my letter. I am not familiar with the Internet
And I only have carelessly found this site match.com, and it speaks, which many people have found
The love and now is happy! I want to try also!
I think, which I should tell about me a little. I think, that I the attractive woman.
I have white hair of the blonde and dark blue eyes. I 5 " 8 " high and I also 121 foots to weigh.
It is a pity, that I cannot apply a picture for you. If you will write to me the letter directly
To mine E-mail I promise, that I shall send you a picture!
If you have interest in the Russian woman, I shall be pleased to receive your letter. Only please
With me to be serious. I sincerely hope, that you the good person and you will write to me.
Until then I wish all of you the most good. Write to me soon. With hope, Irina.
On october 13 2005

ps I have inquiry to you, that you have written to me on this address of e-mail: iroc####76@list.ru"

I'm guessing she'll want me to pay for the first date. And flight.

But I got this yesterday and couldn't figure out if it was a setup or not:
"tell you something? your starting was not so great...let's say...but the rest quite interesting...you seem quite English, basically for so many please please i read, so what can you tell me about yourself?
what does make you smile? your prefered meal?
your best holiday?"

Now I think she's legit, so I replied. I'll keep you on tenter-hooks as to what happens.

the perfect site...

fantastic! the internet is a truly wondrous thing... the perfect site:
MeetWealthyPeople.com where you can... yes, meet wealthy people. "Millionaires" to be precise. I just had to click-thru as I'm "in-the-market" and got taken to another website, provocatively called seventy-thirty.com. I guess this relates to the age gap.

Apparently you are "psychologically tested" to ensure that the matches are not a waste of time, but how one "psychologically tests" the size of a woman's breast is beyond me...
mind you, you have to psychologically test the size of a guy's dick as its gonna be 5cm shorter than they think it is....

come to think of it, is that "breast" or "breasts"? ...

...I think too much...

thinky thinky

Why, I don't know, but I was relating my story of being pretty seriously beaten up in London (broken jaw, fractured eye socket, fractured rib - I'll regale you all with this one at another time). But Ronda pointed out something which kinda hit home in a way it hadn't before. My reaction to it was simply to get through the recuperation. She on the other hand would have naturally told her parents and got some TLC, but that idea horrified me - my parents would've gone nuts with worry from that moment on. Sure, they'd have been upset should they have later found out and me not to have told them, but by then they wouldn't have seen my face, would have seen me well and it wouldn't have been so 'real'. Ronda pointed out though, that I had noone to care for me during that time (perennially single) except for housemates who couldn't "take me in" (as she put it) in the way a partner can or a mother. Made me realise that I've missed much more than plentiful sex all these years, and is still keeping me thinking...

I'll be honest - I can dance

Went dancing in a bar. Very very good fun. I now enjoy dancing more than ever and have realised (too late too late!!) that I'm actually quite good. damn. now its too late and like tonight i end up dancing with 3 gay eastern european guys (isn't it always the way?). One of them became enfatuated with my female friend and then got very ill. I don't think these things are related, but still. I tried chatting up a very good looking girl who worked at the bar but she was busy clearing tables and was being held in check by management, otherwise I'm sure I was in there.... lots of sideways glances... smiles... unless that was simply to see where me hands were..? but the chastest kiss on her cheek reduced me to a (very sophisticated) 15 year old.

can i get a Dr..?

blimey!

had dinner... no.. cooked dinner at Sylvester McCoys house!! He was away and my friend was housesitting!

why am i saying this? well, for god's sake it's Sylvester McCoy! or Kent or whatever. Into his clowns is old Kent.. fair 'nuff. I did my dissertation on "the Fool" so see where he's coming from, maybe.

nice evening. no stories. no sex.

and yes, he does have the 'Ace' annual from 1983 or whenever!

for those of you mystified as to what the hell i'm on about (and its happened before) here's a pic

danelaw rules!

had a VERY random night last night. met up with an ex colleague with whom i've shared a "could've been" with. She's happily with someone and always has been but there's obviously been a chemistry - only once fell into a slight snog, but generally we have our arms round each other when we meet.
Met her and random group with her and got in free to a club. I was one of the very few (only??) white guys there. which i only realised later on but kinda good to be somewhere like that. Started chatting to these 3 Danish girls - very beautiful. And their beautiful american friend. and their cute
english friend... we all end up in the VIP suite (the guys there are verrrrry slick "laydeeeez...").

as you'd expect, the VIP lounge of a club in Leicester Sq has Miss Trinidad & Tobago UK contestants being glamourous and the guys being kept at bay. me? I was dancing. at one point I was on this deep sofa with 4 beautiful danish american women laughing and gossiping... sigh. wish i had a camera to show the grand-kids.....

so, i'm getting on verry well with the american woman (Christina) who is very smart (writes for a business management company on trends in Eastern Europe). then my ex-colleague jumps down beside us and within minutes Christina is making her wan excuses (dental appointment!??) and is gone. "was it somethng i said?" says my "could've been" friend. jealousy? you decide (earlier when i was invited up to the VIP lounge with the glamourous women, Christina and me linked arms. My ex-colleague ran to my other arm "where you going..? even non-ego me can see a pattern...)

anyway. I was dancing. with one of the Danish girls (teasing her as she fancied one of the guys) but she told me i was a really good dancer. which was both a surprise and really nice (especially unsolicited). and was even funnier when she kept telling these guys "this guys a really good dancer" - the daggers they looked at me.... he he. And then I started dancing with these two girls (from Trinidad) and by GOD - that is intimate dancing!! jeeeeeezusss! I didn't even know her name and we chastely put our hands on each others backs then - wham! - we're 'grinding' together!! and then SHE asks me "where did you learn to dance like this?" and I'm thinking that it sure as hell wasn't in Irish dancing lessons at the age of 6. "with you - right now" i say - corny? p'haps, but true! we continued and kept on a-grinding. bloooody hell.... anyway, she left as well.

so to cut a long story to its length (ie long) I finally realised I had no phone numbers and no way to ever contact any of these Danes or girls again.
so I go up to the Scarlett Johanssen look-a-like (honest) and tell her to call my mobile and we agree to meet for coffee on Sunday. No romance - she was with someone else, but the Danes agreed that I was a "nice guy" and couldn't understand how on earth i was single...

I left alone but content. which is why I'm still single i guess (no killer instinct..)

and that was Friday.

ignore that last one

god i got drunk that night. and then for some reason thought i'd share thoughts with the world. what an eejit.

had my other date so i guess that'll be the end of this blog!

oh, how'd it go? well, thanks for asking. Well, it went well. Enjoyed her company, had a laugh, made me think, made me talk, made me listen when i wasn't thinking or talking (which i don't do at the same time so i probably didn't leave enough time for listening...)

but no. again, i enjoyed the moment but there'll be no more. No spark, no fancy. Is it me? is it that they don't fancy me or i don't fancy them or..?

pointless reverie. and nothings come to mind as i stare at the screen and its coming to midnight again....

well, this one is certainly not about sex (except i did see a famous star..)

ok, another blog about a bomb in a city. there'll be loads and mine won't be exceptional, but it would be odd not to mention it.

me? well, i was in a meeting (actually for the record two meetings back-to-back). I then tried calling a colleague on my mobile and got a funny 'dead' tone. what - did they know i'd resigned and stopped my phone too early?? i stuck my head out of the office and got a bunch of people talking "bombs" "suicide bombers" "power surges" "buggered tubes" (i think this last was about the underground...)

obviously like a rational soul (and a coceited consultant) i thought "oh dear, what news has caused everyone to over-react..?" and was immediatley slapped in the face with the reality that "something has happened". something that , quite honestly, makes you shut up. Shut up but not actually feel anything

and that's it. I live in a city of millions. I have no connection to "millions" and I can't connect with the number 30 bus which i sometimes use. and which my housemate was behind (if he didn't have a hangover maybe he'd have got on that one...)
hey ho.

oh, the sex aspect. I almost forgot. on my way home I walked up (actually everyone in London walked - could inspire people who'll suddenly realise "it only took 15 mnhutes") but as I walked back through Exmouth Market I saw Saffron Burrows. Looking a bit gaunt (and coked up?? at 6pm??!!?) but beautiful nonetheless.

if you're reading this Saffron, I was the guy in the grey shirt trying not to gurn.

or sweat.

damn that grey shirt

also forgot to mention that as soon as i got home i quickly and too easily downed 5 or 6 stellas. heat or nerves, i'll leave to you, but forgive the rambling....

well, i guess this one won't be centered on me gonads

well, had the date - lovely girl but I'm not her type and she ain't mine. hopefully not too much dissapointment for her, and at least i learnt a bit about the Finnish political system (interesting - they got to choose a political system in the early 1900s and chose one that was not geographically centered, unlike the UK one where an MP stands for a constituency.)
Ok this might not be interesting, and perhaps proves that we didn't exactly fancy each other.

mind you, managed to walk round most of the Isle of Dogs... ah well, not a totally wasted Saturday then....