Getting Even More Famouser

Hello? Anybody still out there? Yoohoo?....

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It's nice to see some of you guys still keeping up with this irregular little blog - sporadic as it may be. It's a pleasure to have you here. 

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It's pilot season in Los Angeles, which is like the actor's "Incredible Race", a no holds barred fight for the thirty jobs out there. Whew. Better watch out, Leo and Johnny, I'll be in the room too. And I came by zebra. 

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The sun is sure a nice change. Not having seen it since October up in Vancouver, being in L.A. is like coming out of a matinee of a David Lynch film - blinded, confused and warm inside. Hard to describe. (By the way his weather reports are brilliant.)

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Went to rubberneck at the Oscars last night (no I'm not going to put that stupid copyright thingy beside the word) and got as far as the police blockade (above). Apparantly they didn't see my work in Crackerjack 2. Uncultured lugs.

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Spring's coming kids - billions are being spent, the birds will soon return, and short skirts will be making a comeback, I'm told. Something's bound to happen.  

Two more

I'm not done with Ireland yet. I got a couple more pictures...

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The first one is a picture of a typical Irish homestead. Becaue of the balmy weather there is no need for a front door, or even corners, insulation and roof gutters. I couldn' help but wonder where all the rain goes and how the Irish make their toast since I couldn't see any electrical plugs. Very resourceful people. I was lucky they weren't home too.  By the way, the Burren was amazing: I don't think I've ever seen anything 6000 years old.

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The second picture I can't explain; only that I like the trend to wearing blue and red blotches on your nape. I'm going to start doing that.

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Okay enough sillines. Time to be serious: I'm in Los Angeles, a place that tolerates no ridiculous behaviour. I saw the good Paul McGillion last night, he says hi to you all (actually he didn't, I'm just saying that, but I'm sure he would) and we've finally put the finishing touches on our plan to take over the world. More on that later...

Ireland

The Cliffs of Moher, County Clare.

Slea Head and Blasket Island, the very tip of Dingle Peninsula

The Blarney Stone


Drombeg Stone Circle, County Cork

Closing night, Carran's, in Cork City
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On Galway sands they kiss your hands./They kiss your lips at Carney./ But on the Lee they drink strong tea/ and kiss the stone that's Blarney.
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I remember seeing a cheesy postcard or some such with a cartoon representation of a leprechaun kissing a stone labeled Blarney. They were out on a field somewhere and the stone was just that, a rock in a field with grass growing underneath it. Now I knew enough that not all Irish people are four foot nothing and sport ginger beards, green hats and long pipes (actually, on second thought...) but for some reason the idea of the Blarney stone being a boulder in a field somehow stuck in my subconscious.
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Fast forward to last Thursday and my surprise that in order to actually kiss the Blarney stone, you have to lie down on slippery rain soaked ramparts over a hundred feet up at the top of Blarney castle, literally bend over backwards while a rain soaked dude (bloke - chap?) holds you by the waist and basically shoves your face into the castle wall while his buddy takes your picture (ten euros, if you please).
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Reality: one. Preconceptions: zero. And the tower of Pisa is not held up by Greg from Baltimore like in those pictures you always see.
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But Ireland. What to say. It was lovely. Of course. I drove most of the south western peninsulas (the rental car has a handy reminder sticker on the dashboard: Stay Left <--- ) and the weather broke for those three days, so I actually saw the peninsulas Beara, Iveragh and Dingle. I was expecting it to be much colder, but the gulf stream keeps the lucky Irish in a mild and wet winter, where many people have sub-tropical plants in their gardens.
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My thanks to the Warpcon people (Noirin, Karen, Steve, Eoin - did I spell that right?) and their hospitality. It was, like the Guiness, smooth and rich.