Things To Do In England When You're Dead

Today I made my first confession on the twistedly brilliant Group Hug

You come down stairs in your Mr Penut t-shirt,
and you can hear your neighbourghs playing music,
but you can dig it because they're family.
And you start to make a penut butter and jelly sandwich,
till you decide you can't take the noise no more.
You run around and you start waving the knife around,
sending penutbutter flying all over the place.

And then you relaize...


You're totally under dressed for the situations.



-The Dirty Three

• There is a guy with a blackbelt in Motorhead in my hostel
• There's a New Zealand guy who's incredibly preachy, we call him Christ. He said he worked for Dow, of Dow Jones fame, implying he was a financial wizz of some kind. Actually, he was a family minder, and the wife of Dow died, so he can't have been that good at it.
  
• Last night I worked the bar at a private function, a leaving party for somebody going to work fundraising in Africa, and about 12 people showed up, I served 35 drinks all night. It picked up after eleven, and one of the woman there was the most stunning I've ever seen. God bless those Irish woman...
• I'm going to arrange a big game of Risk, knowing full well the arguments it'll produce.
• The Lithuanian think they're really good at basketball
  

You know, as much as I dislike that Frog, I dislike Coldplay more. Coldplay take themselves seriously, the Frog is just a joke going to far, like Nazi Germany. I'm glad that the Frog has put The'Play in thier place by holding them of Number 1.



The hideously annoying Jamster Crazy Frog

Coldplay, enough said.

I'm finally out of Little Poland and into Jacobs Inn. It's a much nicer site, security, better kitchen and a shower that blasts your flesh away. However, the kitchen shuts pretty early and the common room closes at 1AM, so it isn't all that social, and the "free breakfast" is actually a muffin and carton of juice (Not a very good one at that). I have however found a perfect way to create entertainment, watch The Simpsons then ask anybody in the room at the end if they want to come the pub around the corner with the promise that it's Dublin cheapest (3.40 Euro € a Guinness). In this way I have had discussions about geography with Canadians, Morrisseys last album with Americans from Italy and parasitic worms with aa guy from Boston.

On the concert side of life, I'm seeing Slayer on Tuesday, Fantomas on Wednesday (What a two days that'll be) and Antony and the Johnsons on July 2nd.

In terms of culture there are two things to mention. First, the Dublin food chain SuperValu, a brand you can trust! They're honest, they don't go around screaming how cheap they are, they tell it like it is and say "We're just as cheap as the others", but with an implied tone of shop here becauseits geographically convenient. Secondlyy, I've been induldging my love of Bacon, Francis that is, at the Hugh Lane Gallery, where his London studio was dismantled and moved to. A fairly interesting tour but the best bit was the interactive screen part, which just goes to show how underwhelming it all is. The recreated studio is a bit of let down, it's impossible to create disorganization, it all looks to planned. There where a few unfinished pictures at the end, but they suffered the same burden as the Salmon of Doubt. It was also sad how, despite finding all these clues at the what inspired Francis Bacon, among which where records, photos, cut up magazines, they near enough ignored the fact that he was gay. I only noted one acknowledgmentt of this fact in the whole thing, and it took careful and methodological searching on the computers (During which I also learnt what was in Francis Bacons record collection, and that mine is better). Such a consertative town this, that's why people rabbit on about U2 at the neglect of the far superior Thin Lizzy.


Thier loss I suppose....



The Bacon Studio (Might be the reconstruction...)

I entered the world of work last night, bar tender at a hotel and night club, and in the early hours of this morning I was working away in the over 30's nightclub, Bo Jangels. It's amazing how different the art of bar tending can be between countries, and shocking how little warning you can get. Nobody told me there was such thing as red lemonade! And since when do spirits come in 35ml measures! Oh the things I learnt last night. It was also the first time ever, in my entire working history, that the boss came and asked me if I wanted to take a break, and well, I damn near wept... Not only did I get 30 min sit down, I got fed, waterd, got to meet the other staff and give out the wrong date for the FA Cup Final. I enjoyed it so much I felt guilty and turned down the two following offers of a break, but anyway, wanted to get stuck in and see what other crazy stuff there was to learn (Like washing the drink shelves at the end of a shift, never done that before). After seeing what bar work is supposed to be like it makes my existing experince look like I was trained in Sariavo, I'm the Green Berret of bar tending.


Yesterday I also tried to find the Irish Jewish Museum with a friend, we eventually got there to find it closed. Spending the whole day on my feet yesterday, prior to going to work, was not the best idea.

Barry Adamson, ex-Bad Seed and ex-Magazine hardly updated his website at all last year, now he's sent out an e-mail with details in particuar, but it does mention his first child has been born. And in an act of down to earthness the first three people to orer a t-shirt from his site get a free commemorative t-shirt!

New album early next year

When I got back the hostel yesterday I decided to move all my valuables elsewhere, my valuables beinh around 40 mini-discs (How I wish I'd chosen MP3s earlier...). I forgot one item however, and now its gone, my brand new towel...

After my first night I have learnt the hostel contains 30 beds, 25 of which are taken up byPoles. There is an American and an Irish in there, I've spoken to a German and seen an Asian girl, and then there's me. I was telling a friend on mz new location and she warned me it was a rough area, and to watch out for to Polish place as there was a murder there a few months ago when a drunken argument got out of hand. Drunks, Poles.... must be somewhere else...

It mightn't be perfect there, but iot'll have to do, seeing that I got ahead of myself and booked in for a week rather than waiting to see how the first night went instead. There's a place across the road for 40 Euro per three nights, slightly more expensive but I might treat myself. Of course, this'll have to wait till I get more work. I have a job at the Guinness Storehouse but Iám not on the rota till next Mondaz, and even then I have no set amout of hours. I gave up on the HMV application after the massive blunders getting a CV to them, and today I dropped of an CV at fancy soap specailist Lush, for a laugh. The CVs are in about thirty other places to.

Ive just come to notice that the z and y kezs are the wrong waz around on the kezboard....

On a good note I bought Around Ireland With A Fridge today, although the idea was stolen of me and mz travels on public transport with a rake. That bloodz skater.

I've discoverd Poland within Ireland, in the form of City Manor Hostel. It's a fairly grotty place but instantly had a welcoming atmosphere, perhaps it was the bottles of Bergadof Pilsner, and I'm sure the place will grow on my faster than that suspicous mould spreading across the ceiling.

I was suprised to find this place, no mention of it on the net, and only know am I reading teh reviews written above. I think I may have moved into the wrong place and should have perhaps spent a bit more on a place to reside....

I've made a shocking discovery, since moving to Dublin I have spent more money in Internet cafes than on booze. I don't know how I fell into such a dire situation, but I have a few ideas on how to get out of it (Like using my student card to get half price), and I really would advise any travels to make sure they take a good stock of well written CVs with them (With the right phone number).

So far I have handed in three CVs at HMV and I'm still not convinced that any of them have the right phone number on.

I plan to go to Dublins oldest surviving pub tonight, The Bleeding Horse, dated 1694. It has an Internet cafe in it now, wonder when it was added.

No sooner haveI sorted a job in Dublin, I get offered one in England with the YHA.

Bastards.

Oh how I wished I had brought a towel with me. I never used to travel sans towel, especially as I started my travels just after finishing H2G2, and I had the same one for several years, despite peoples complaints of its smell, but once I lost is I just abandoned my towel dedication.

If I had one here there would be a crucial difference, I'd be 12€€ better off. I couldn't found a cheap shop to save my life, not suprising in this expensive city, and ended up resorting to the Debenhams sale. It mightn't of been cheap, but its a damn good towel, and it'd of been a perfect end to the tale had not a friend told me later that evening having got four towels and a face cloth for 15€€, that just made me sad.

Future reference, Dublin cheap shops, Grafton street, one of the first roads on the right, bargins galore (Especially towels)

So, moved aboard from England's beloved North, one night at work I just felt I had had enough, time for some adventuring. I think there may be a sweepstake on behind my back about how long I'd last, after all everybody knew I had no plan, job, accommodation or anything, this was an experiment.

First of, it was all Devo, my fore farthers came form Ireland in search of work and now I'm back her, even came by ferry for added effect. Second, I don't want to get getting afraid of life and it's adventures, so why not!

Planning, perhaps more could have been done. Halfway to the ferry terminal I noticed Id forgotten my back cards, oh dear, and after faffing about I decided best just go anyway and get my bankcards posted, plus that'd encourage me to be a sensible spender, for a change. Upon arriving at the terminal one member of staff told me to get get boarding card and come back to him, I did so, then he told me I was too late despite having 15 mins spare. As I had given my ticket in however, other staff overruled and told me to go the corrrect way thoughly bypassing customs and their bleeping metal detector.

So far so good, get to Dublin, a friend is putting me up for a few nights, first mission get new SIM card, easy peasy, next job hunting, snagg number two, forgotten my CV disk so have to start all over again at great expense in Internet cafes. Monday however, a lot of CVs go out, got no replies, but hey, their loss not mine. That afternoon I went to see a recruitment agency who where so keen to employ me that they called me in England, Celtic Recruitment. I was concrened by the fact that unlike most places they where based way out in Dublin 22, a long trek on the 68 which would have been much more relaxing had the bus driver not been French and on his first day, and so not able to tell me where my stop was. He found out somehow, I assume, because sudddenly he tells me I'm in the place, I alight, I'm in the middle of nowhere, fearing I am the butt of somebodies joke. It was the right place however and for the first time I actually registered with an agency instead of having my CV ignored. I had to do a lot of computer tests, and despite doing fairly poorly (In my opinion, only got 65%) they said they where impressed and had an ideal position, a low grade admin one at a NUrse registration centre. It was a menail task but tehy assured me I'd love the friendly atmosphere (Making me wonder why the last people had left the post). I managed to hunt down the next bus stop, and that was the end of that adventure.

Tuesday, locked in friends flat all day, resort to watching BBC, the kind of thing I wanted to escape from. That evening I was going to view a place to live, but while on the way I got another reply offering a place for 100 Euro a month less so I cancel the first viewing. Of course, God knows this is wrong, so the second place fell though. I was initially using Dublin Flatshare to find a place, not sure why as when we used that to find someone to fill a room when living in Manchester he turned out to be slightly insane and in the end he moonlighted on us, but been having better luck with Daft.ie.

Wednesday, realized the wrong phone number was on my CVs, but no matter as it was shite, write new one, instant reply from Irish Recruitment Consultants, have an interview tomorrow to work in the Guinness Storehouse, huzza!

That is my first update, just noting it to write a crackin' travel book when I get back on how to travel without planning (And what to plan)), so this is a sneak peak. Till then, I have to go towel shopping...

I'm moving to Dublin on Sunday