Monday, August 15, 2005

Drawing is a good pastime

Baby balloon loves to go to bed with his mummy and daddy. But he's getting very big.

Daddy balloon says 'baby balloon, it's time for you to start going to bed in your own little bedroom and to leave mummy and daddy to go asleep on their own'.

That night, Baby balloon goes to bed in his own room, while Mummy and Daddy go into their bed.

In the middle of the night, it is very dark, and Baby balloon wakes up a little scared.

Baby balloon decides to go into Mummy and Daddy balloon's room. When he gets there, he sees them sleeping peacefully, and he begins to feel tired. So he tries to squeeze into the bed between them, but there isn't very much room.

He's getting very tired, and he really wants to get into the comfy bed with them, so he lets a little bit of air out of Mummy balloon and a little bit out of Daddy balloon, but there still isn't room, so he lets a little bit out of himself and soon there is lots of space in the bed, so he jumps in quietly and soon all three are blissfully asleep.

Daddy balloon wakes up and gets very angry.

'Baby Balloon' he says, 'I'm very angry at you'

Baby balloon gets very sad. 'Why are you angry Daddy Balloon?'

'Well, Baby, you haven't just let yourself down, you've let me and Mummy balloon down too!'

A big thanks to the Tyrone Fan who told me that joke - I was amazed to learn that despite the fact we had a last minute draw (some may say a lucky escape), there was humour and fun to be had with the Tyrone fans in Dublin last Saturday evening.

I did however notice at the match one young enthusiastic supporter (he was apopletic with love for his team - indeed he was spotted kissing the crest of his jersey) who needs to work on his chanting. When the excitement got too much for him, he threw himself out on the aisle shrieking:


I tell no lie. I was confused at his referencing an early eighties, slightly naf band, until it was pointed out to me that his jaw, slackened by the excitement of the game, had turned his probably mild accent into a sort of beast like yell. He had to be physically restrained by an eighty seven year old fellow Tyrone man, who himself was seen leaping, like a leaping nun, when they scored their cool goal. The handsome (not), much tattooed Eoin Mulligan, otherwise to be known as 'that scourge that befell Dublin on Saturday 13th Augusty 2005' placed an ace goal in our net, and had I been an eighty seven year old Tyrone man, I may have leapt too.

Oh well, not to be outdone, the Dubs came back in some style, with Mossy Quinn getting us even stevens. Another match in two weeks time.

I don't think I can take much more of this. I may have to retire (as did my Mother and Aunts before me) to the pub. Nah. The Championship is in full flight again, and I just hope I can get tickets to the next match. Hill Sixteen La La La - forget your 'Come On, Come On, Come On, Come On, ComeOnComeOn - Tyrone' -I'll be singing 'Come On You Boys in Blue (ibid, ibid, ibid, ibid, ibid).

To anyone who doesn't understand, don't worry, this madness will pass come mid-September (or if our previous performance is to be repeated, even sooner!)

Balloons are intrinsically ace.

The dubs are unfortunately not, but they try. Sometimes. Here's to the replay.

Upon reflection, our excitable Northern friend may actually, resulting from a combination of 4 hours in a hot car, many many pints, the yoke of foreign imperialism and mental instability, have believed he was in the presence of the once mighty Duran Duran. Eoin Mulligan's iridescent hair and general drunken swagger may have been the fatal trigger.

Or maybe the last event the poor chap attended in Croke Park was the recent U2 musical showcase, leading to a belief that it's hallowed turf is a regular haunt of pudgy pop-men from the 1980s who have overstayed their welcome?
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