Susan Hated Literature

So, instead of rugby this blog will know turn its attention to… cricket! Nah, not really, though I have watched some of our winning ways. Who knew that failed^[1] furrin^[2] crickteers could play so well? Or, if I’m being honest, who really cared. Still, now that they are out there winning, and fans are singing olé olé olé^[3] the rest of us will be happy to see them do well.

In case you all didn’t know, the Six Nations finished up on Saturday. We were playing first, on account of the BBC organising things. Bloody English! And the match was one of the most entertaining, plus we scored over 50 points. All good. You know, apart from that last minute try from Italy after we really should have put the ball out of play, but no point in moaning. As B#5 said, sure, no matter what we scored those french fuckers’d^[4] probably go one better. But we had such high hopes ^[5] as it looked like Scotland might just do enough. But no, bloody crappy refs asking stoooopud questions when everyone and their dog could see that there was no grounding visible, therefore the benefit of the doubt must go to the defending team, and therefore you may NOT award the try should have been Mr. TMO’s call.

But, what can you do? Pray for payback come the Autumn, that’s what. So you’d better watch out then.

I would have loads and loads of photos of the terribly exciting and thrilling St. Patrick’s Day Parade from Sligo, only as B#3 was invest-igamating the new camera he hit the delete all button. I saved some, but not all. Mainly the attention grabbing parade consisted of bands. Marching pipe bands. In rain gear.

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My only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are grey!

What a match. What a result. Role on Scotland and Italy.

Super Saturday or what? The fun started before I went to bed on Friday^[1] when B#5 texted me to say he’d gotten his hands on a ticket for the big match. Bad news was that he couldn’t get me one, his was a schoolboy one that some fella didn’t want. Don’t know why, he asked no question just grabbed it. His train got into Dublin around 3 on Sat., so I was busy texting him the insane opening scores from the Italy Scotland match. 21-0 after 7 minutes, and Scotland’s nightmare start was all down to their own sloppiness. Part of me really wanted Scotland to make a come back, I was giving out to Mr. Paterson for not taking any of the points on offer. Constantly kicking for touch and never getting near scoring a try! But a little part of me wanted Italy to win^[2] Historic, seeing as they’d never won a Six Nations away match before. And if they’d lost after those early tries it would have been heartbreaking. It’ll be really interesting to see them face Wales, I’m thinking that the Wooden Spoon might be headed Wales, despite the fact that they finally managed to score some tries in this year’s competition. But I’m getting ahead of myself. After the Scotland match came the Ireland match.

And the tension was such that I had to put away the beer, couldn’t be drinking as I had to concentrate on the match. But before that came the appearances by the teams, and the crowd gave the English team a great reception. Nothing compared to the reception they gave Ireland, but still nice to see. And after all that had been written and talked about regarding GSTQ, there wasn’t even the slightest hint of trouble^[3] Instead it was sung and listened to with respect, before Amhrán na bhFiann and Ireland’s Call were belted out, with so much emotion^[4] that tears were shed. And then, the match itself.

The opening was a bit dodgy. England took the lead, 3-0 and a slow start from Ireland looked likely. But not this time. Not a bit of it. O’Gara evened the score up with a penalty of his own, and from there on it was all Ireland. England were totally outplayed in one of the most intense first halfs I have ever seen. O’Driscoll was back and although quiet by his usual standards was still hugely influential. Stringer was back and as game as ever. Paulie too was back, I know he hadn’t missed a game, but he hasn’t been playing as well as he can recently. But in this match he was fantastic, back to his best, and Man of the Match, although maybe O’Gara could have claimed the award as he totally dominated the match. But then again, so too could Wallace, he was immense. And with Horgan back to his preferred position, and displaying some GAA high-fielding talents to score that try.

What a day, and what a result, 43-13! Forty-three points we scored. Gwan Ireland!

Image from IrishRugby.ie

Then I had to leave the on-screen celebrations and head out and find de brudder in the seething mass of happy fans coming down Parnell St. And headed home to hope Wales would finish off a perfect day by beating France.

It was not to be however, Wales may have gotten off to a good start, but in the end France’s class showed out and they won, playing well-within themselves. Bloody French spoiling our party

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Well, obviously enough, with the weekend just gone my first topic of this post has to be… the role of the Catholic Church in the political life of Ireland.

Or maybe not.

I’d much prefer to ramble on about the rugby. I didn’t catch any of the England-Scotland match, though I hear Wilko was fabtastic, but his try wasn’t one. I am a fan of Wilkinson, and in one way I do hope his road to recovery is straightforward, but then again, we play England fairly soon and I really want to win.

I didn’t see much of the France-Italy game either. Was at the aunt’s having lunch. But I’m very disappointed in Italy. This was to be their year to win a game, but they played horrendous rugby^[1] and it’ll be the Wooden Spoon if they continue on like that.

And so on to our match, and could you get much more intense than that?
And yes Ireland were lucky not to have O’Callaghan penalised, but there were more than a few occasions when I saw Wales not releasing the ball when tackled. Turns and roundabouts. Three tries to nil means we finished better on the day. And on a day when O’Gara had a horrible first 40 minutes that says a lot.

Injuries now are the big worry for Sunday against France. Darcy is supposed to be fine, O’Driscoll may make it. Although that might just be talk to keep the French guessing. The big worry is Stringer, who has a hairline fracture in his hand.

We’ll see what happens.

In today’s weather update it looks like winter has finally arrived now that it is spring. Bloody freezing out this morning so it it. And the last half an hour or so on the drive home on Saturday was through freezing fog so dense that you couldn’t see nuttin’.

Still the trip home meant I was finally able to stick all the music on the mp3 player. Only around 2,500 songs or so, but while I was adding them I also spent a few hours^[2] deleting all the duplicates from the PC. I’m not really sure why we needed ten copies of some songs on the hard drive, though I’m sure there was a very good reason for it.

And you’ll all be pleased to know that the newest cat is still alive. And as stupid as any cat. Put out by the mutt leaping about the sitting room chasing a ball she decided to leave the room, but as she jumped down from the chair she slipped on the wooden floor and smashed into the ironing board, but instead of realising that she was the cause of her collision she promptly turned and blamed the innocent hound. Spitting at him until he nosed her out of the way.

The gasúr had his birthday while I was away. He is a whole year old now^[3] and taking a few steps, though he prefers to crawl.

How was everyone’s weekend?

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That has to have been the worst match of the World Cup so far. The US did nothing but foul, and the Italians did nothing but dive. Terrible, terrible game.

I wasn’t too pushed either way when it started, I know I mentioned Italy in the list of about three billion teams that I might support, but honestly, I didn’t really care who won. I assume Italy would walk it and was hoping to see some good goals. Instead what did we get? Stupid, brainless fouling from the US, and the Italians not playing. Or maybe this is as good as they get. Tell you what, in this group I’m cheering for Ghana.

And for once, all those yellow and red cards were actually deserved.

And why on earth did none of the Italians ever look across the line to check whether or not they were offside? Although, in fairness I think twice the linesman was over-eager. But still, they didn’t deserve to win. But neither did the US, despite their definite heart and will to win, becasue they were playing dirty. They should introduce negative points for shite matches.

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• Heath Ledger …. Casanova
• Sienna Miller …. Francesca Bruni
• Jeremy Irons …. Pucci
• Oliver Platt …. Paprizzio

This is a terrible film. Terrible.

And the really annoying thing is that it has virtually no redeeming qualities. Yes Heath can be nice to look at, but his “phwoar” manner of speaking here is totally off-putting.

The basic plot involves Casanove being chased by the Inquisition for his various conquests and libertine lifestyle. The Doge does his best to protect him, but says that if it doesn’t arrange a marriage to a respectable young woman he will exile him from Venice. Casanova doesn’t want to leave Venice, he is waiting for his mother to return. She left him when he was but a child in order to persue her life as an actress.

So Casanova decides to marry, only after he has become engaged to Victoria he falls in love with Francesa Bruni. But alas, Francesca has been bethrothed since childhood, to a man she has never met, Paprizzio a lard merchant from Genoa. Cue a fun-filled, hilarious romp through the canals of Venice in a story of love and mistaken identity.

Well, that may have been the intent, but it didn’t succeed. Instead we get a collection of badly performed pratfalls. Did you know that people falling over is just the funniest thing ever? And do you know what makes it even funnier, when it is fat people who fall over.Yup. That is the calibre of this film. People falling over. And it aint funny. Not the first time, not the 50th time, not even the last time when Jeremy Irons tips backwards^[1]

Predictable. Lacking humour. Lacking romance. Lacking action. this film doesn’t exactly live up to its IMDb genres now does it? Even the costumes aren’t fantastic enough to distract your attention. One to avoid.

IMDb | Official site | Swifty Reviews | Movie reviews for greedy capalist bastards |

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