The mysterious no show of Leunam

Northerners love going South of the border down Mexico way. We get to do our "funny" top o' the morning voices, and that's always fun! We take the piss and say "t'be sure" when anyone asks us something.

"Taxi sir?" says he.

"T'be sure" says I.

"Wanker" says he.

I had to stop it, I was in danger of getting my ass handed to me by shop keepers, taxi drivers and a rather angry man in the train station. Some people cant take a joke.

The Irish Blog Awards were a blast. Weird in many respects but a blast all the same. I say weird because whilst you feel you know a lot about the people there you really don't know them at all. You don't know their real names, you don't know what they look like, you don't know if they are going to be the sort of people you would usually cross the road to get away from or if you will make a new life long friend.

What I discovered though was that the people who rant and rave and swear and threaten on their blogs were very quiet almost shy in real life and that those who appear quiet and sane online are in fact bonkers in the flesh. That was quite odd.

Reading blogs is no different to reading books. You imagine what the characters look like, how tall they will be, what their voice sounds like, even down to the type of clothes they wear. I was stunned as people who I assumed were as tall as buildings turned out to be no taller than a dwarf in heels. People who I assumed were young turned out to be as old as my dad. It was strange. And it did take a while to get used to the new faces with real names.

All these shocks and oddities aside the most shocking part of the night was the no show of my alter ego Leunam. I remained lucid and at no point felt the need to cry, shout, swear, or offer anyone outside. I did have to bite my lip for a moment to stop myself from crying when I realised I wouldn't be going home with anything more than a pounding headache. But despite having drunk many many gin and tonics I remained fairly, well sober is not the word, but I wasn't totally shit faced. This is a definite first for me.

I am suffering though.

And a cyclist did have to swerve round me on Harcourt Street as I puked the last of the gin out of my system whilst I waited outside my hotel for my taxi. Very very classy. I was later to discover that the last of my gin had not been expelled. And had to make a rushed visit to the toilets in Connolly Station. If I hadn't needed to puke because of the gin then the toilets alone would have had you gagging. Very fucking grim.

I had a giggle and the night wouldn't have been so much fun if it hadn't have been for Medbh and Gimme. Cheers for that! And to everyone that I met I say thanks, it was a great night. I'm not gonna name you all because I'll miss someone and you'll get upset and pull me from your blogroll. You know I'm right. And I have to finish with an apology, well done fillet isn't known for apologies, Deborah I'm so sorry that I missed the foodies lunch. I was sick....really really sick.....sorry

Normal order tomorrow folks right now I have dwarves to entertain/expel........

****afternoon update****
dwarves have gone, which is a fucking result as has Gimme,
to Spain on his jollys, but not before he left us his take on the IBAs
you should read this, for balance.....