Der Himmel über Berlin

1. What is in the back seat of your car right now?
Can't drive, don't have a car. My bike doesn't have a back seat

2. When was the last time you threw up?
Over a year ago, because of this.

3. Whats your favorite curse word?
At the moment, shitnuts

4. Name 3 people who made you smile today?
Matt
Row
erm...

5. What were you doing at 8 am this morning?
Sleeping

6. What were you doing 30 minutes ago?
Watching Top Gun

7. Have you ever been to a strip club?
Nope, a little too seedy for me

8. What is the last thing you said aloud?
Oh yeah

9. When is your birthday?
Dec 23rd

10. What is the best ice cream flavor?
Anything fruity, especially strawberry and lemon

11. What was the last thing you had to drink?
Water

12. What are you wearing right now?
T-shirt, undies, shorts, glasses, armband made from wool, cotton sock, aircast

13. What is the last thing you ate?
Bread with cheese, pesto and salami

14. Have you bought any new clothing items this week?
Nope, but watching some stuff on eBay.

15. When was the last time you ran?
Seconds before my ankle went crack last Sunday.

16. What's the last sporting event you watched?
Spain v Russia on Thursday evening

17. What's the last sport you played?
Football last Sunday

18. Who is the last person you sent a comment/message on myspace?
Never, I despise myspace with the buring passion of the fires of hell

19. Ever go camping?
Yep, every family holiday when I was a kid was in a tent. Plus a festival here and there

20.Do you have a tan?
In a way

21.Have you ever lost anything down a toilet?
Dignity on an almost daily basis

22.What is your guilty pleasure?
Crisps

23.Do you use smiley faces on the computer a lot?
not excessively

24. Do you drink your soda from a straw?
Never drink the filthy shite

27. What are you doing tomorrow?
Whinging about my ankle, watching DVDs, the usual

28. Where is your mom right now?
Making dinner at home, I'd imagine

29. Look to your left, what do you see?
Quite a lot. Two phones, bread, a pen, a bottle of water, an empty beer bottle, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, a plant, a speaker, a tiny bottle of vodka, my keys, the wall.

30. What color is your watch?
Don't have one

31. What do you think of when you think of Australia?
Too much to write

32. Ever ridden on a roller coaster?
Yep, they make me very nauseous

33. What is your birthstone?
What?

34. Do you go in at a fast food place or just hit the drive through?
Don't eat fast food, don't drive

35. What is your favorite number?
23

36. Do you have a dog?
No, but I will be dogsitting for a week next month, which I am really looking forward to

37. Last person you talked to on the phone?
Matt

38. Have you met anyone famous?
yep, Damon Hill and Damien Rice

39. Any plans today?
Yep, gaming with a buddy then off to the work summer party.

40. How many provinces have you lived in?
Difficult question. In Ireland: Two. In Italy: three or four. In Germany: One.

41. Ever go to college?
Yep, wasn't much fun

42. Where are you right now?
In my room

43. Biggest annoyance in your life right now?
My left ankle by a very significant distance

44. Last song listened to?
In God's Country - U2

46. Are you allergic to anything?
My hometown

47. Favorite pair of shoes you wear all the time?
My shoes don't fit at the moment, usually I wear a pair of brown erm... shoes.

48. Taste in your mouth right now?
Nothing really

49. Are you jealous of anyone?
Yes, everyone that can walk

50. Is anyone jealous of you?
Usually I would say yes, but for the next six weeks I would say no.

51. Do you love anyone?
Very difficult question to answer. I'm sure if I had seen her in the last four months, I would say yes. Since I haven't, I'll say no.

52. Do any of your friends have children?
One is pregnant.

53. Do you eat healthy?
Not really, but at least I know that the question should be 'Do you eat healthily', or 'Do you eat healthy food'.

54. What do you usually do during the day?
Breathe, excrete, teach, blog, speak, consume.

55. Do you hate anyone right now?
Never have and hopefully never will

58. Do you own any big sunglasses?
Average sized, I would say.

59. Have you ever been to Six Flags?
Don't know what that is

60. How did you get one of your scars?
Football, surprise surprise

I wish there was something more than a busy street and a tree outside my bedroom window, then at least I could stare that the neighbours.

Ooh, Rear Window remake! Mmm, Grace Kelly...

That's it. Auditions are open. I am James Stewart, I need a Grace Kelly. Form an orderly queue, ladies...

Although I do have the SPD headquarters outside my window too. I could spy on them and uncover some huge Europe-wide conspiracy. Maybe they're planning to kick Ireland out of the EU because of the Lisbon Treaty debacle. I'd be screwed then. I'd have to marry someone in order to stay here.

That's it. Auditions are open. My citizenship is about to become worthless, I need a sham marriage. Form an orderly queue, ladies and gentlemen*...

AAAAAaaaarrrggggGGGGhhhhhHHHH!!

I need to get out of here!

*Same-sex marraiges are perfectly legal here, but are easier to dissolve so a man-wedding is preferable...

Jeez, I'm bored.

Day four of being housebound and I have watched stupid amounts of Peep Show, spent hours reading random blogs, bought lots of things I can't afford on eBay and, well, that's pretty much it.

It's incredible that I can't find the time to clean up my rubbish tip of a room. This is strange for someone who is normally rather proactive. I am also grumpy and frustrated with the people who are trying to help me. Some of my friends even have bitemarks on their hands from when they were trying to feed me.

Found a non-striking doc and he was rubbish. Didn't even touch my foot, but he did give me a cool aircast to go around my ankle, and he did tell me I'll be fine in six weeks. He also did not forbid me to go to Poland, but that doesn't fill me with confidence as he really didn't seem to give a shit in any way. Might find a new foot doc when the lazy bastards stop striking next week.

Getting better with the crutches. The German for crutch is Gehstock, which means go-stick. I think that's really great. My initial euphoria at angrily shaking my crutches at things has dissipated. They pretty much suck ass.

So, who wants to see my ankle? Since I understand that most of you would rather do anything but that, if you want to you can click on the link below. It is a little nasty.

Read more!

As Brad and Rob know, my weekly Sunday game of football is utterly non-negotiable - I will not miss it for something as trivial as guests coming to visit. Row was offered the chance to have a sleep in and catch up with us later, but she decided to come along for a giggle.

I wasn't playing particularly well when a loose ball broke free. Completely unmarked, I attempted to control the ball with my right when I suddenly lost balance, turning very hard on my left ankle. I heard a crack on the way down and my ankle was already the size of a tennis ball.

Strangely, there was no pain. The only pain I was experiencing was the thought that my mountain-walking trip to Poland in two weeks was not going to happen, and even Mont Blanc in September was improbable. And that was rather significant and made me cry.

Got driven to the hospital by a friend, accompanied by the wonderful Row, who got to wheel me around the hospital in a wheelchair. By this point I had banished the idea of not having mountain fun for the foreseeable future to the back of my head and was enjoying being treated like a lord.

Got the X-ray done remarkably quicky and the news was mostly good - no breaks or fractures, but the ankle was far too swollen to be properly examined. The doc reckoned that it's either a really bad sprain, in which case I'll be grand in two weeks, or it's tendon damage, which will need an operation.

So the only option left available to us was to take a taxi home and drink booze and watch Peep Show. Which we did. Bloody hell, Peep Show is the greatest. When we had watched all of Series 5, we went back to Series 1. Eventually though, it was just too much to take so we played a hard-fought game of Scrabble. I don't want to talk about the result, except to say the QI is NOT A WORD, ROW! NO! And it turned a nine-point victory for me into a two-point mugging. Growl.

Still, shouldn't complain, I was supplied with beer and cool packs for my ankle all afternoon. I felt guilty about it until the Scrabble incident.

Then, of course, more football. We were joined by some buddies, who thoughtfully brought along food for the housebound folk. We had earlier made a short foray to my local doner shop, widely recognised as the best in the whole world, but it was such bloody hard work with crutches that we took a decadent taxi back. On the way to the doner shop, I got to wave my crutch at a car filled with Spaniards - they were beeping at the Italian colours that we had covered ourselves with. Crutch waving is excellent. Made me feel like the grumpy old man I can't wait to be.

The result? Well, I don't want to talk about that one either. Suffice to say that if Luca Toni was really the pregnant giraffe he appears to be, he would have been put down long ago for SEVERE USELESSNESS. I felt that I would have been more effective, even with an ankle the size of San Marino. Oh, and AJ, the TV was saved by the fact that I was utterly immobile.

So this morning, we had a well-deserved sleep in before commencing breakfast. It had begun as a co-operative operation, but my wobbliness and clumsiness soon banished me to a seat at the table. I think everyone benefitted from this, the scrambled egg with tomatoes and zucchino turned out very satisfyingly.

I armed Row with a guidebook and an itinerary, including the amazing chocolate shop of Fassbender and Rausch. Row assured me that if she doesn't return, it's because she died and went to chocolate heaven. I'm sure blogland will forgive me if I inadvertantly sent one of our best bloggers to her death.

After much pottering around, I headed out to see a nearby orthopedic doctor. Arriving to the surgery bathed in sweat (it's hot and crutches suck), I was upset to find that doctors are on strike for the next week. What fucking marvellous timing, assholes.

So here I am. Bored. Better get used to it; I'm going to be immobile for a while.

The wonderful Row has been resident in le Hotel du Rampage since Friday. We have been having lots of fun. She just left to ramble around town a few minutes ago, and I am lounging around my room with my feet up doing nothing.

She cooked me breakfast this morning, and spent all of yesterday afternoon and evening fetching me beers and pretty much everything else I demanded.

Is he really that bad of a host, I hear you holler. Well, yes and no. But to explain that would be skipping ahead in the report of this weekend, and frankly I have enough time to tell you all about it in exhaustive and uninteresting detail. So get comfortable.

Friday evening was spent in a Turkish beer garden with hundreds of enthusiastic Turks watching Croatia v Turkey. Pretty dull game until two minutes from the end when Turkish dreams were shattered. Luckily they were repaired a minute later, to set up a potential civil war here in Berlin on Wednesday - Germany v Turkey in the semi.

Turks are so wonderful to watch football with. They get so excited and are not aggressive afterwards, because most of them don't drink. And, flatteringly, a couple thought I was Turkish since I was wearing my Turkey jersey. This was especially wonderful since I was once told by a Turkish kid that I look like death because I'm so pale. Who's a laughing Turk now, Turkish kid? EH?

Saturday involved a day trip to a small town outside Berlin called Werder. It was my friend's birthday so a small gang of us brought food, booze and games along, found a nice spot on the shores of a river and ate and drank the day away while trying not to look at the fat old men in speedos or the naked kids frolicking.

There was a monumental game of Monopoly which was dominated by the utterly ruthless team of Rampie and Row - we* managed to piss off one of my friends so much that she lost her cool and hurled her remaining pennies and properties into my face. It was fine, we got to keep them.

Of course there was more football, the Russkis strolling though against the inneffecive Dutch in their stinkingly ugly orange yuk jersey. After celebrating my buddy's birthday in a playground (his request...), it was back to Berlin where a hot Swiss girl I am vainly trying to sleep with was having a house party. I proceeded to drink lots in order to have the courage to talk to her, but got distracted and ended up chatting with Row and Berlinlights for most of the time.

Fine, fine, I admit it, I did try to chat to her, but she actually just walked away from me. I mean, actually walked away mid-bloody-sentence.

As Berlinlights had missed his train (AGAIN! That guy...), we had another blog sleepover chez moi. There was a lot of farting, which was unusual as Kelly wasn't there. Not sure of Row or Berlinlights was to blame, but I can assure you all that it definitely wasn't me. Investigations are ongoing.

That's enough for now. You'll just have to wait until later this afternoon to find out why I transformed into the world's worse host. Time to bate your breath.

* I say 'we', but it was really just me being an antagonistic bastard. Row behaved with impeccable decorum, and restricted her unsportswomanlike behaviour to successfully distracting other players when we landed on their squares. A sure-fire success in the business world.

I used to always travel on the Underground, but for the last few months I have been almost exclusively biking around.

I used to always listen to music on the u-bahn, but for safety reasons I don't while cycling.

Now my earphones are too big for my ears. My earholes have actually shrunk.

That is all.

With thanks to Dami - this is dangerously hilarious.

The dating frenzy of the recent months is cooling down a little, as I am frankly getting tired of meeting new people. Most of them really are rather boring.

The most interesting dates were the gloriously unsuccessful ones (practically all of them), as they gave me something mildly amusing to blog. I mean, who wants to hear good news? I know that everyone wants stories of sunburnt Irishmen being made fools of, either by themselves, fate or improbable combinations of both.

However, in the midst of the dating frenzy, I was always very frustrated by the amount of time I wasted speaking to females that weren't single. Now before everyone starts freaking out and deleting me from their friends lists, I'm not some sort of arse that only speaks to ladies in order to achieve some sexytime, not at all. I would just appreciate it very very much if non-single people would be kind enough to give some indication of that early on in the flirting process. I mean, this refined Irish charm isn't endless, you know. Must be conserved.

Case in point: a certain very attractive Spaniard in my German class. We shared a classroom for ten weeks, never any indication of boyfriend presence. Granted, she didn't seem very interested in me. Still, the polite thing to do would have been to subtely slip in a comment somewhere. Oh, 'My boyfriend's a football fan too'. Or a quick little 'Yes, my boyfriend eats food too'. Or even 'Oh, you're breathing air? My boyfriend does that too'.

Nice and simple. Everyone wins - I save charm, I can concentrate on grammar rather than wild sexual fantasies and she gains a sweaty Irish dude as a friend who is fully aware of her lack of availability and would never try anything untoward.

I mean, when I had a significant other last year, I did it. Pretty arrogant, some might say, but it's not at all. Just giving everyone a heads-up. Although back then, the significant other never dropped the 'oh my boyfriend *insert something irrelevant here*', feeling that it makes the other person feel uncomfortable. IT DOESN'T!

Anyway, so all of you paired-up folk out there, do you do it? And if not, why not?

That's it. Feel free to delete the arsehole now.

Italy lost. Heavily.

That hurt.

Ref could have done better though. I am deliberately understating that.

THE REFEREEE WAS FUCKING HORIFFIC.

Cough.

The €100?

Went to the police station with it. Had four different people laugh their heads off at me, all of them policemen, all of the seperate from the previous one.

One of them wrote my details down in a notebook. I'm pretty sure he has already spent my €100.

I'm an IDIOT.

Although if no-one claims it (IF), the currency will be mine in a year.

YES, ONE YEAR.

Fuck Germany. Fuck Holland. Fuck honesty. And, more importantly, FUCK FUCKING HOLLAND.

Fuck Holland.

Just found €100 on the bike path on my way into blog HQ a few minutes ago. Two newish fifties, seem to be real, didn't seem to be anyone filming me and filing a report on how dishonest people are, especially foreigners.

Of course I took them. If I left them, some other chancer would have swiped them. My intention was to get to HQ, find the nearest police department and hand the money in. My esteemed colleagues at the support table, however, have convinced me that I should just keep it. Finders keepers and all that.

I don't know what to do. I'll feel very guilty if I just take it, and very stupid if don't...

*stares guiltily at the money sitting on desk*

Here goes:

1. What I was doing 10 years ago:
I was busy being spotty, nerdy, bookish, misunderstood, unsociable, me in my shell.

2. What 5 things are on on my to-do list for today (not in any particular order):
Since today is pretty much over, this is what was on my to-do list:
1. Hit blog HQ and then attend my last German class before summer break. Status: Achieved.
2. Get busy with hot Spanish chick at post-class barbeque. Status: Failed.
3. Not be drunk for my afternoon class. Status: Achieved.
4. Come home and watch last two episodes of Lost. Status: Achieved.
5. Get to bed early. Status: Pending.

3. Snacks I enjoy:
Crisps, bananas, gummi bears, crackers with pesto and cheese, börek.

4. Things I would do if I was a billionaire:
Panic wildly. Curse how much more stressful my life would become. Buy apartments in Berlin, Genoa, Galway and other cities that I like and pay people to furnish and decorate them for me. Learn Spanish. Move to somewhere mountainous in South America. Climb every highest peak in every European country. Buy my favourite football team and make them successful. Buy shocking amounts of presents for people I like. Give money and time to charities. Just the usual stuff.

5. Places I have lived:
Mullingar, Galway, Dublin, Milan, Genoa, Berlin.

Not gonna tag anyone, so there.

I read somewhere that it takes 27 hours for your body to fully digest a normal-sized steak.

Last night we had our Mokono Summer Grillparty - all the blog employees mobilised en masse, packed a fearsome amount of booze, meat and salad into a rented van and made the short trip down to Görlitzer Park, where we found a nice spot in the sun.

There was football, there were card games, there was frisbee, there were at least six steaks comsumed by yours truly.

In my defence, I was only trying to do mokono a favour. Faaaar too much meat had been bought, and I just didn't want it to go to waste. That's my Irish upbringing for you. A famine 150 years ago, and no self-respecting Paddy can leave food uneaten.

By the time I left, I felt like I was carrying a big bag of dead animals in a bag around my waist.

I still do.

And what's happening later this afternoon? Mokono lunch with the leftovers from yesterday, followed by a farewell grillparty with my German class to mark the end of the course.

I think I'm going to try being vegetarian for a while. At least until a week from now, when all that steak is finally out of my system.