…it’s um… mostly just me… sitting around and drinking all day. Now that Morah and the kids are gone’

As you can see, it’s going to a bitter cold night across most of the country with temperatures dropping to as low as -6°C in some areas. There will be ice and patchy snow in the border regions making for difficult driving conditions. The west and south-east will see some very heavy rain showers, accompanied by high winds and the south west can expect some sleet during the course of the night.

There is, however, one part of the country that will escape this wintry weather. An abnormality in our weather fronts has created a pocket of warm hazy sunshine over one house in North Kildare. This has absolutely nothing to do with the big rastafarian dope party going on there tonight, I swear.

The Mahon Tribunal has, it seems, left our illustrious leader somewhat confused, partially tongue-tied and smelling strongly of bovine excrement. Well done Mr Ahern, you are February’s Shitetalker of the Month. Keep up the good work.

And congratulations to Pinkie who nominated Bertie and so wins €10 worth of call credit for the network of her choice. Flash bastard, eh?

STOTM will be back for March’s nominations soon. Stay tuned!

I’ve got a confession to make. I like alcohol, I like it a lot. An American that drank as much as me would probably spend at least three weeks out of every year of their life in a rehab clinic. Americans are strange. The main problem I have with alcohol is not health, work or relationship related. The problem I have is alcokleptomania… a terrible compulsion to rob shit when I’m drunk.

I’ve robbed all sorts of things whilst under the influence, things I don’t even want, things I don’t need. I don’t really know why I do it, I’m usually so fucked when the alcokleptomania kicks in that I don’t even know about it until the next morning when I wake up and see someone’s licence plate and a 24 pack of yoplait yogurts on my bedside locker. Don’t ask.

But today I seek forgiveness for my crimes. I can’t go to church because last time I went there it induced a near-fatal case of boredom in me. So instead I confess to you, the public… The public that doesn’t know who I am or where I live, incidentally.

So here I go:

I once robbed a bottle of Sambuca from a bar. The bartender was chatting up a girl at the end of the bar when I sneaked around and shoved it up my sleeve (of all places). Didn’t get caught. Didn’t feel guilty.

I once robbed a mobile phone at a party. I couldn’t even use it because it was switched off and I (obviously) couldn’t guess the pin. Threw it into a bin down town.

Another time I was at a concert and I tried to rob some guy’s coat. The dude collared me and I had to pretend that I had a coat the same as his and it was an honest mistake. He should’ve beat my ass right there but he fell for my convincing lies. I went back later and robbed his coat when he wasn’t looking. Idiot.

I went to see Pearl Jam in the Point and got seriously, seriously twisted. Don’t even remember going into the place. Woke up the next morning with a concrete hand in my pocket. From a statue I presume? ? ?

I once robbed 13 glasses, 6 ashtrays and a barstool (all in one night) from a Rugby Club bar. Note to rugby club owners: When a drunken cunt shows up at your bar with an empty sports bag and leaves with a full (clinking) sports bag, you should probably stop him at the door.

Another time, I was at a crazy party in an abandoned house. Got really fucked. Probably the most fucked I have ever been. Woke up the next morning with a high-nelly bicycle in my bedroom. I then noticed I was missing my wallet, my phone and one of my shoes. I don’t really know if this one counts because it might have been a drunken exchange(?).

But lastly, and worst of all, I once robbed a car… my neighbour’s car… at only 15 years old… on Christmas Eve. Could it get any worse than that? Yes, I crashed the fucking thing. Worse still? I got fucking caught. Son of a bitch.

So tell me, is this shit normal… or do I need help?!

…I could eat a babies arse through a shitty nappy.

Make me a sandwich.

Please???

I’m fucking bored to tears.

Firstly, I hope you read this. Otherwise I’m just wasting my time and making myself look like a bit of a queer for nothing. Balls.

I’m sorry I shouted at you this morning, it’s not that I was really that mad, you were just doing my head in and I’m not much of a morning person anyway, as you know. I’ve been extra grumpy lately because I’m not getting enough sleep due to working on this blog. For this I apologise. I realise that you are having a tough time at home with the littlest Shitetalker (a real Micro-Satan) and, to be fair, I haven’t been helping like I should be. I’m sorry.

You know by now that I’m not the most romantic person in the world, in fact, I probably don’t even make into the top 6 billion, but I am going to try harder this year. I’m not going to go all mushy here because one of the lads might read it and they’d never let me live it down, (cunts) but I will say that I love you and I’ll see you soon.

Happy Valentine’s Day

Read this. I don’t care how many doctors say it’s possible, this dude has got to be lying his ass off. Although if it is true, and Sexsomnia does actually exist, I wanna know how I can acquire this magical condition. Shit, it’s hard enough to get laid when I’m awake…