He either failed the driving test or had a reactor in the herd test.
Ah yes. 9 hours, cant beat it.
Lovely dream too. Standing in a car park in Dublin as Corks fans arrived up for game. A cop has pulled a Boy racer Cork fan in for speeding and booked him for it. Then the Cork fan goes into the car park and gets the last remaining space. The cop follows him in and tells him there is no way he is taking the last parking space in Dublin. An old Cork fan, proper muldoon rolls in and an ould corolla and the cop lets him in instead.
Justice.
[QUOTE=“Kinvara’s Passion, post: 1125719, member: 686”]Ah yes. 9 hours, cant beat it.
Lovely dream too. Standing in a car park in Dublin as Corks fans arrived up for game. A cop has pulled a Boy racer Cork fan in for speeding and booked him for it. Then the Cork fan goes into the car park and gets the last remaining space. The cop follows him in and tells him there is no way he is taking the last parking space in Dublin. An old Cork fan, proper muldoon rolls in and an ould corolla and the cop lets him in instead.
Justice.[/QUOTE]
Why Cork? Is it the red I wonder, a warning to you or just the arrogance of youth?.. The Corolla is obviously you, old reliable stock. Your Brain is telling you that you have the know how to get you through the upcoming season, let’s hope the body feels the same.
I had a very strange dream last night Jurgen Klopp was coming over from Germany to take over my company, the scene was a house out in the Hampshire countryside, a timberframe house, but he turned out to be a woman with a child as I stood on a balcony looking out as they arrived from the airport in a taxi, all off a sudden a drug dealing buddie from my past 20 years ago from Sir Henries arrived out of nowhere with a bag of pills asking me if I was alright for yolks.
That ones easy mate. Your body is rejecting the healthy lifestyle . You will be back on the cans of Stella and marching powder heavier than ever before the month is out.
You are riddled with insecurities… you feel out of place in high level business circles on the mainland, you have little or no control of your dealings. Fear there of your past lifestyle coming back to bite you. Fear that you will be outed as a tipp roaster and the empire comes tumbling down.
Etc etc
Its a real fucking mess of a dream.
I was a drug dealer in last night’s dream, more of a middle man really. I did not produce or deal at a street level but was a link between both. Some of my current business acquaintances formed part of the operation. I was just about to get nicked by the cops when the youngest woke me at 4 for a bottle. For some strange reason I did not fear the cops
Your past is coming back to haunt you- Something in your life recently has you on a collision course with this past- the woman with a baby, your baby? The drug dealing buddie… the most striking thing is the house you are in, wood frame!! Not very solid, pal… The fact that you are up on a balcony means when the house collapses you have a big fall ahead of you. Stay strong mate.
When i sleep my dreams are generally non events.
The daydreaming I do is epic stuff though. I scored the winning point from wing back in the junior c final while I was cycling yesterday morning. Came rushing out of corner back, levelled a few lads on the way before composing myself and firing it over from 80 yards.
Everything alright in work mate? Could the cops be your bosses in real life ? Are you facilitating lads not pulling their weight in work or perhaps a few lads up to no good? You seem to be in the middle of whatever is going on here and perhaps you wanted to be arrested to spill the beans on the others.
As a follow on to this i’ve a dirty confession to make- Those few of you who know me around here know that I have been suffering with hip/groin trouble but have managed to get through 90mins for the last three Sundays- well i’m sore out today, could barely walk earlier- Anyway i’m in the office, no car and no lunch, and the shop is ten mins away… Don’t I spot a pot noodle up on the self, out of date 2 months… and yes, I did, not a seconds thought did I give it… No forking forks tho as the kitchen is closed so I had to use two coffee stirrers as chopsticks. Unreal.
Whose office are you in? When did you start doing security?
Ahem, @ChocolateMice cough. I know you’re a busy man of late, old bean but promises were made, deposits paid, etc. At your earliest convenience, my outdoor training regime, please.
Find a pitch- mark two spots 40-50 yards apart. At 50% running speed run back and forth between each marker doing 5 burpees at each station 6 times. Repeat x 3 - that’s 90 burpess in total.
Come back to me after that and i’ll know where you are at.
[QUOTE=“ChocolateMice, post: 1127850, member: 168”]Find a pitch- mark two spots 40-50 yards apart. At 50% running speed run back and forth between each marker doing 5 burpees at each station 6 times. Repeat x 3 - that’s 90 burpess in total.
Come back to me after that and i’ll know where you are at.[/QUOTE]
Cheers, kid. I’m not sure that’s worth the €300 I deposited in your account but I’ll see how I go.
What’s a burpee?
That’s just to see where you are at, pal.
It’s one of the best conditioning exercises you can do, especially when combined with something like running, or into a pull up.
Describe what it entails please, mate.
Very good one there last night.
Was in Dublin for All Ireland semi final weekend, it was an all Ulster affair with Armagh, Tyrone, Donegal and Monaghan in action we were making our way down Clonliffe Road when the sound of gunfire rang out. I looked behind me and a load of people were left slain.
Others were shouting out, “It’s the free staters, it’s the free staters”. I legged it down towards the end of Clonliffe Road facing Quinns as the crowd dispersed and then took a left and make my down Dorset St.
I was grabbed on the street and hauled into The Auld Triangle pub, the door locked behind me. The pub was filled with smoke and there were about 10 people there. I noticed Jim Lyangh at the bar, he turned to me and said “Collins is responsible for this” “They brought the dirty blue shirt bastard back to life”. Next thing there was a knock on the door and Lyangh went over to check it out, the door opened and in walked Ricey McMenamin with a knife held to the throat of that roaster from Cork who wears the Sombrero to the matches.
Seamus Twomey then came out of a back room smoking a cigarette, he stared at the roaster and nodded to Ricey who threw him in the back room. Next thing I could hear were a load of cars pulling up and the sound of gunfire, Lynagh threw me a rufle and said, “hope you’re a good shot, lad”.
Then I woke up. 