Saturday, November 23, 2002It has been a while, I do apologise, folks, for being a wee bit lazy in updating this thing. Not the most eventful of times but a few tidbits all the same. Big bash last night for Jérôme's stag night, including the usual unmentionables in double attendance, followed by a pub crawl, and a generalised visit to somewhere where you wouldn't meet Ryan O'Neal or Ali MacGraw despite the name... There seems a lot more in store for the wedding on the beach next week.Meanwhile, Jeff E. and his gassy cohorts went to the Jubilee Ball and apparently were bored senseless despite a fair bit of drinking involved. On the rugby front, Jeff G. came in for what he said was a business trip, cunningly planned to not coincide with any games in which he may have been useful, but fair play to the man, he kept his end up at the bar and participated in the general merriment as is his wont. A small raffle was also held, for the Leon Fund, in order to put the pieces in Leon's head in place. We are yet to discover if this is repairs for injuries sustained or if it is a belated attempt to correct deficiencies from birth! A big round of applause for Marks L and D and Matt who all put in a tremendous effort to raise the necessary cash. Any of you out there wanting to donate, please get in touch with any of the O'Malley's rugby group and they will separate you from your cash swiftly! Thanks to the BA staff who managed to bring out the Ireland-Oz, England-All Blacks, Jocks-Boks and England-Oz tapes so quickly! Sunday 24th at 8:30, we'll be showing the Jock v the Boks followed by England v Oz. On a sad note, Mark Hindmarsh of the All Black and his girlfriend Vivian were injured in a car crash in New Zeland last week. They do seem to be recovering after a number of delicate operations. We hope that they get well quickly and return soon to their rightful places in the second best pub in town! Anyone who wants to leave comments about the delicate thirteen stitches, please feel Absolutely free to do so. Monday, November 11, 2002Just rescued and retrieved from eternal oblivion due to committee structure of collective memory reconstruction exercises:The disappearing 2 litre bottle of sake; The glee on Mark Ledson's face bacause of the scar on Billzinho's cheek, the phyrric victory O'Malley's obtained during a 57-3 drubbing by Bandeirantes on Saturday, to bring the season to an end with a perfect 0-7 record. I guess it cannot get worse next year (unless they increase the number of teams playing). While on the subject of rugby, here's a hat trick for the northern hemisphere: Ireland, France and England beat their southern hemisphere opponents Australia, South Africa and New Zeland, respectively and on the same day, which must be a first! Don't suppose those lads in Limerick would have had a Guinness, now, do you? Thursday, November 07, 2002Not too much later, apparently. Here is a report just in that proves that O'Malley's rugby and its players are making news the whole world over. The Associated Press newsflash below and then the personal account of the passenger, one Nad Chaudhry, spinster of this parish, bon vivant extraordinaire, sometime flanker and...well, get to the end and I'll tell you.(11/7/02 - Norfolk, Virginia) -- Passengers on a flight to Boston that was diverted to Virginia arrived at Logan Airport early this morning. An American Airlines plane landed in Norfolk, Virginia, at 3:35 p.m. yesterday after passengers complained of a suspicious smell and sound. The plane was intercepted by two air national guard jets and escorted to Norfolk. Officials said no one was injured. Police and FBI agents accompanied by a bomb-sniffing dog boarded the plane. One man was arrested and a package confiscated, but no details have been made public. Passengers said the man offered no resistance to authorities. The flight which had originated in the Dominican Republic with 51 people aboard was grounded in Virginia, and another American Airlines aircraft flew the passengers on to Boston. In his own words: "Lucky me as that was me! so there I was coming back from runing our new caribbean event, minding my own business watching the film. When the stewardess asked me if I could smell sulphur. I said no and they asked me a couple of times more and said if I had any bags etc. They wanted to know what my mini-discman was and I showed them that. They kept trying to see if they could smell something and occasionally you could smell some sort of cleaning agent but only maybe once/twice, basically nothing. Then the American Airlines crew decided that it was in their best interest to divert the plane to Virginia where we landed, being tailed by F16 fighters that roared overhead, onto a runway with fire trucks and hundreds of police cars and ambulances. It was all getting pretty exciting and we connected to the gate and the captain said we had to remain in our seats and the police and undercover agents boarded and came down the aisle with their guns on their holsters and stopped at me! Asked me to get out of my seat with my hands where they could see them, put me in an armlock, marched me out of the plane, past all the other passengers and then cuffed me and took me to an interview room.They then interviewed me first US Customs and then the FBI for about 7 hours in total and I had to give them the details of everyone I knew, school, university, work, conferences where I had been travelling. They were especially interested in the fact I had been to Pakistan in 2000 and why I had been travelling so much this year and that everytime it was for a wedding! They then took my clothes to be analysed and left me in my underwear - luckily I was wearing my cool new long calvin kleins! They also went through my laptop and asked for the passwords of some of the restricted work financial documents. The best bit was later when there was a big fuss about a receipt they found and they came and asked me "so tell us about the diesel?" so I tried not to laugh as I showed them my jeans and explained to them it's a brand of italian jeans. Finally as I had no business cards because I had just run out of them and they wanted to speak to someone from my company. But by this time it ws about 10pm so we couldn't get through to anyone in the Boston office and although I had already asked to make a phone call which they had sort of fudged me off. The customs office didnt do international phone calls, the FBI's mobiles weren't authroised for mobile phone calls either so we had to go to a payphone in the hall and use MY prepaid calling card to call Brazil and wake up my boss and get him to verify to the FBI who I was. Finally got back to Boston on a new plane and a few of the other passengers were asking me why they took me off and if I had said anything stupid. Then there were a load of tv cameras and some relatives of the other passengers. Well, Nad me boy, I am sure that you are totally bereft of sense of taste or smell, proven in front of dozens when you skulled three pints of beer, puked it into the jar and then proceeded to drink the puke. Those septics smelt the puke and took it for a fertilizer bomb. Change your perfume! Shiver me timbers, Blind Ronnie is alive and well, and well within reach of Thorpy, which does not augur well for the establishments that they frequent. For those of you that cannae or willnae remember, Blind Ronnie Woodcock, European Champion and Olympic gold-medallist in sleeping for Scotland and GB in singles, doubles, mixed doubles, indoors and out, was the first of the only two ever regulars of what then was Finnegan's to have his own pillow behind the bar, should he suddenly become bored with the conversation around him, or feel the need to lower his much abused eyelids to shield his eyes and mind from the sad vision of cheap booze, hot and cold flowing women and his colleagues bantering on about anything but Jim Baxter! Andrew Thorpe, the Tyneside terror, father of two, donated the Makam shirt that we proudly hang on our upstairs wall and which we wistfully regard while fondly reminiscing over his white wine induced rampages in nearby gay bars and clubs in search of someone small enough to bitchslap. So, a quick visit to our message board will prove that the both are indeed more quick than dead, living out the remainder of their sad little lives somewhere on either side of Hadrian's Wall (and, I must say, who cares which side?!?!) waiting for an opportunity to crowd these shores with their presence. Way aye, boys, and hoist a pint of stout for the likes of us and we'll do the same for ye, maybe! The rest of you that actually have lives, remember that we have a busy Saturday ahead, what with the rugby against Billzinho's lot (that turncoat!), the Frogs against the Boks, the CTM dinner for a tenner and the birthday celebrations of the lovely Mariana and the lovely Josy. I hope they come in their birthday suits! And I hope that Jonathan and Mark don't kill me after reading this. Having said that, can Mark actually read? Any and all clues appreciated. Wednesday, November 06, 2002Glad to be able to report that after about ten days, life in the middle lane seems just fine for now and that I no longer have Guinness related nightmares and the follow-through phobia is gradually receding. There was a hiccup last week with the Hallowe'en party, when the little old non-smoker me drank a wee bit too much and got into an Absolut induced coma. Never mind, survived that too! The only bit of bad news in the horizon is that Big John is supposed to arrive back today and aftyer ten days with wife and baby only in the glens and dales of Jock country, he might have built up a bit of a thirst. I suggest that the weaker livered ones amongst you out there might hide for a few days.But then, you will be out for the last match of our first season in the top flight of Brazilian rugby! This will be at SPAC at 3:30 on Saturday against Bandeirantes, where Billzinho will be playing against O'Malley's, shame on him, followed by a SPAC match, followed by France v South Africa on the TV with a chicken tikka massala and we are all set to celebrate Josy and Mari's birthday! Don't make plans for early Sunday morning! Tuesday, October 29, 2002Well, folks, I thought I would have a quiet week in Holland to make up for the excesses of the "O'Malley's in Exile - Limerick Chapter" week. I was mistaken. Very mistaken. Hetty (anyone remember?) Phil Rook (who came for the last Formula 1 weekend) and a few other friends from my Amsterdam days insisted on keeping the tempo to near Limerick standards, with the main difference being the price of stout! In Amsterdam, it is 4.50 euros, rather than the 3.50 we paid in Limerick. So, I reiterate: I want absolutely no complaints about the price of drinks at O'Malley's!After four days on the razz in Amsterdam, my folks' 130th birthday party in some fancy castle in the south of Holland, within pissing distance of the German border. This gave my sisters and me the opportunity to piss on a few Krauts, just to keep the hand in and the tradition satisfied. Anyway, Papa Gator is 70, and I thought, well, here is my chance to get a few quiet days in, before it all starts again, back at home. Wrong on all counts again. The seventyish Viss Sr. seems to have been building up a bit of a thirst since I last saw him 18 months ago, and was in fine form. Between him and the gossip hungry sisters, not too much sleep again. When the time came to head back, there were more surprises. The storms that hit Holland and England meant that I had to extend my stay by an additional day! So, a wee bit more of the same in Amsterdam...anyway, back home, which was burgled in my absence, and in the saddle again. I remember finally what women actually look like (had lunch at the Bar des Arts today!) and ready for the odd dram once squash is done with tonight. And then there is the Hallowe'en Party later this week, as if we really needed an excuse to get drunk! Slaínte. Thursday, October 24, 2002Anyway, where were we, minus the alcoholic haze which is still affecting what I laughingly call a brain? Oh, yes. The reception at the wedding. As one would expect, slowly the guests departed the scene after a mere 14 hours of solid drinking, leaving behind the jetsam and flotsam of humanity to close out the proceedings by annoying the hotel staff for drinks until breakfast, while toying away the hours with sexual innuendos that would never be fulfilled, mainly because everyone was far too drunk. This didn't stop Steve from trying to hit on three girls at the same time, nor did it prevent Vidette (John's sister) from getting a thorough foot massage. Sem, Ricky, Gabe, yours truly, Steve, Bruno (who did go missing for a wee while, but more of that later) and a few others including some ladies were present. I shall not mention their names in order to preserve their honour, the chivalrous so-and-so that I am. Gave in at six thirty am, a few stayed on. Don't care what they did.The next day was the day of reckoning for most as the hotel got their comeuppance on the rowdy party by presenting the bills to the various participants. At this point it was discovered that Bruno's bill was being charged as a double for the last night of the sojourn. Insistent denials by the Ryan camp were stonewalled by the hotel staff. When finally asked how they knew that the room had double occupancy, the reply came swiftly: "He called the reception, asking for condoms at 11:30, p.m., Sir." Thanks Bruno, it just wouldn't have been the same without you! Anyway, the bills settled, a ("Guinness, anyone?") drink at the hotel bar, another ("Guinness, anyone?") at Lena's and a quick run down to the Railway Arms where Lucy is still fondly remembered by the more geriatric members of staff and regulars for a quickie ("Guinness, anyone?") and we were off to see the Munster lads see off the pretentious froggies from Perpignan for a Heineken Cup match at Thomond Park. As can be expected, the group could not take the stand without a quick ("Heineken, anyone?") the the Old Bohemians bar at the ground. The game was great in the first half, scrappy in the second and the Munster boys could have put it away quickly but they too must have been breating in the alcohol fumes the Ryan party were exhaling, and took the whole 80 minutes to win narrowly. None of this could have been watched in peace, of course had the Ryan brothers, well instructed by Justin Sr., not brought along warious hip-flasks, attendant paraphernalia, whiskies and brandies, for general delection. Now, for those of you not steeped in rugby tradition, let it be said that one does not leave an occasion such as this to retire to one's quarters, to peruse the New Testament. One goes to the Temple itself, and the chosen Temple for the day was Willie Sexton's or, Willie Six's, as it is known around here. Willie, oft capped flanker for Ireland was himself behind the bar, pouring copious amounts of ("Guinness, anyone?") you know what! Various other Irish rugby luminaries of yore were quietly supping away and the Ryan party, still strong in numbers, felt duty bound to do the same. After a few hours of this, someone remembered that we had not eaten for approximately 24 hours, so Aubars was the unfortunate locale selected to suffer the drunken lot of us! A very nice meal washed down with ("Guinness, anyone?") aplenty, followed by shorts and longs and more ("Guinness, anyone?") and, finally, after a whole week, we saw some dazzlingly good looking colleens! They do exist! They probably were hidden away by their fathers who knew that the Ryan circus was coming to town! If you do not believe me, have a look at the pictures taken by Vitus, the Omnipresent at http://www.aficionado.dk/ryan . Great do, John and Peti, congratulations and all the happiness in the world to you, a pair of fresh kidneys to me, and off we go to Moscow for some more ("Vodka, anyone?"). Monday, October 21, 2002O'Malley's in Exile; The Limerick notes: We have survived. God only knows how! First, a morning of pre-ceremony drinking, ("Oh, it's awright, lads, the bride is Brazilian, she'll still be at the hairdressers at 2 pm, so hows 'bout another round of Guinness?") which ensured that all males in the grooms party entered the church in a single file coming from the (great)Lena's Bar next door, under the evil glare of the bride and her bridesmaids who were kept waiting at the church door. Then, a wonderful ceremony which included boys from Murphy's Law providing the music in the ceremony and an Irish piper to show the way out. Highlight of the ceremony: the appointed and handsomely paid babysitters couldn't keep the lovely Yasmin Ryan quiet during the service but Godfather Gabe sprung into action and looked after her, keeping her quiet even as the piper was strangling the cat! The lowlight must go to Bruno, Peti's brother. In his speech in church, welcoming the two families, he announced the death of his and Peti's father as well as John's mother, the lovely Rita, who were both present at the ceremony and very much alive. Apparently the boy lost his speech, asked the padre for another and got one from another wedding. Without reading to get the meaning of what he was saying, he just substituted the names of his father and John's mother in place of the dead relatives of the earlier wedding party. That does deserve a prize of some sort. Later, after an obligatory hour or two at Lena's Bar ("Guinness, anyone?")the reception ("Guinness, anyone?")with champagne for the ladies and Guinness ("anyone?") for the laddies. Wonderful speeches by Pat and David, the groomsmen, and Cormic, best man and brother that lives in Edmonton, but our lad is very lucky that no-one dropped him in the proverbial, especially as we did have a session in his absence to nail down some blackmail-worthy fact and fable for use in just such an occasion. Emotional speeches by Peti and Bruno and yours truly was called up to speak unexpectedly. Declined to drop the big feller in the shit also, seeing as he still has an outstanding bill at the bar an he was holding onto the tickets for the next days' rugby match at Thomond Park. Anyway, once the formalities of speeches and toasts ("Guinness, anyone?") were over, we got down to the business of serious drinking ("Guinness, anyone?"). And dancing. A jazz band as well as Val and the boys got them all going. Someone needs to look at Vitus's pictures, especially those he took of Graham in full flow. Vitus, by the way, subbed expertly for Carlao by being omnipresent with his camera everywhere! More tomorrow, 'cause I need to go to dinner!5:01 PM  
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