I am going to the Irish Blog Awards for several reasons.
First and foremost, I think I deserve some [hah! some?] pints with my old friends that I met in the previous couple of sessions.
Another reason is that there are a lot of you women who attended last year, who would like a second crack at The Ultimate Sensual Experience. It’s true what they say about the oldest fiddle making the sweetest music, as I’m sure you will agree? However, on my doctor’s advice, I’m afraid I have to limit myself to no more that eight women this year, so it will be on a first
cum come first served basis, as it were.
Also I have booked a place further west for the next few nights, so Galway is merely an overnight stop on the way to better things.
The one reason I am not going is to pick up an award, as I very much doubt that that will happen. It didn’t happen last year [ya miserable fuckers!] so I’m not holding my breath for this year.
There is one thing that does concern me about the Awards thing though, and that is Herself.
You see, she isn’t fit.
I have noticed this lately. It takes her twice as long now to plant a field of potatoes as it used to. I also notice that when I let her carry my bags, she tends to drop them a lot. It was time I did something about it.
I went and bought a Wii.
I have never bought a games console before, and the very name of the Wii makes me want to vomit, but in times of crisis I have to put my principles to one side. I really need her to be fit in case she has to carry me anywhere.
I set it up, and she insisted that I try it first, so I did. I am, apparently a perfect specimen of manhood, but then you all know this anyway. My balance is perfect and my Body Mass Index is bang in the middle of the ‘Ideal’ range. I did a few exercises and notched up quite a good score.
Then it was her turn.
She stepped up onto the little pad thingy, and the Wii screamed. She fell off with the fright and landed on the coffee table, which of course smashed. She then tried standing on one leg. That went well…. for about half a second. She slowly keeled over, like one of those brick chimneys being demolished, and ended in a heap in the dog’s bed. She cried; I sighed.
I think there is a lot of work to be done before the end of the month.