As most of you know, instead of spending saturday as drunk as a lord and making slurred advances towards anything with a pulse at gothwalk, sabayone and olethros BBQ I was down in cavan being a good son and taking my parents out for their 30th wedding anniversary. My brother, sister and I brought them out for dinner and a few drinks afterwards and presented them with their present of a gigantic wad of cash towards a holiday. All in all it wasn't a bad evening up to that point but of course we had to push our luck and eventually ended up in a pub with "live" entertainment. I say "Live" because one of the members of the duo on stage was about a hundred years old, had her wrist in some sort of cast and was playing keyboard with a gusto normally reserved for members of the undead community. The other half of this dynamic duo was a bit younger (yet his stage act was restricted to arthritically lifting his left leg occasionally) and alternated between a banjo and a guitar as he made his way through a medley of songs about how a woman in a blue ribbon framed him for diamond theft, how his baby done left him and how Cavan won a hurley match (rare enough to warrant a song apparantly). To liven things up a bit my sister filled me in on the newest cases of incest and inbreeding in the area (only two reported so far this year). It wasn't all bad though, as it turns out, ten years after I moved out of the house I finally got my own room - Mum converted the old study into a bedroom and it is apparantly mine, I think it might be a hint that she wants me down more often.
The next morning I got up to go to the loo at around ten am, grabbed my tee shirt, shook it out and the biggest goddamned beetle I've ever seen landed on my bedsheets right in front of me. I'm not ashamed to say that I screamed a bit. The day got better when my brother and I went for a drive to pick some stuff up from the newly opened Argos in town. Its never really a good idea to bring me into Cavan town when I'm single, (relatively) few things annoy me quicker than seeing the number of attractive women I see hanging on the arms of bulbous, red faced, buck toothed, big eared, mongoloid cretins who wander around, all out of breath from the effort of walking. Today was no exception. On the way back we drove past my deceased grandad's old place where I discovered that it was being moved into by the overpriveliged little snot of a son of the most pompous jackass in the neighbourhood following a vigorous remodelling. Then we stopped by my Uncle's place only to find him screaming at the taps because the roadworks down the way had caused the taps to alternate between spewing liquids that looked like either coffee or milk.
It was with great relief that I got back home last night I can tell you.