Hiding away from blogging because….

First there was the virus. It has ravaged me little website. It keeps coming back. It’s like a drunken bum that hangs around the back of a pub, sniffing the warm scent of stale beer buried in the plastic bins. It stays active, pumps itself full of virus steroids, and gets back into the Sober Paddy central nervous system. Then it kicks the shit out of it. Pummels it with leather clogs across the cranium. It spews into it’s bowels and loads it full of misdirection. It is an evil mystic.

Then there is the visitors. Into our one bedroom apartment my lovely sister, brother in law and nephew came. Arrived with sure fire love and fun. Armed with themselves and their wit. The magic chaos that cramped living creates explodes into the mind of the creator. Two year olds who you love bring you such a sense of serene contentment. They haggle, giggle, waggle and wonder. They shriek, leak, peek and plunder. They are to distraction what sun is to cool vanilla ice cream.

Then there is the forex. I’m a learnin’. I’m a assimilatin’. The very financial system which I believe is the ruin of the world today, is now the very tool which I hope to create wealth from. I am Judas Iscariot. I am the heathen with the gullet full of silver and gold. I am the weak willed sell out snitch who grasses up the the Boss who made him what he is. Except it’s the other way round. I am a boggle eyed chart watchin mathematical nerd. But there is money to be made dear people. I will keep you posted.

Then there is the trip. In three weeks I leave Australia to go to South and Central America for a year. Sober Paddy will be on tour. I will be blogging en espanyol. I will be travelling to places far and wide. And right now I am selling the contents of our lives. Everything must go.  Sell sell sell sell sell. If you want anything send me a mail. I am sure that I have it. Washing machine, t-shirts, books, clobber and wine glasses. Make me an offer.

Then there is the film making. We are going to be shooting little movies of inspirational people and have been doing a crash course in film making. It is not easy, but I have the beard of Steven Spieldberg and the eyebrows of Martin Scorsese’ best friend – there is no way I can fail. A passer by commented that I held the camera like a young Neil Jordan. Or was that I failed at grammar like a dumb prison warden?

So it is action stations. I am under the gun. Serious pressure. Some of my hair is committing suicide. My middle age swell is shrinking from lack of meals. My furrowed brow is crumpling under the stress of it. My ears ache and my nose is runny. My chin is popping acne like a hormonal teen. (well, not really)

On a different note if anyone is up for some messing in Cuba in three months, I’ll be in Havana; writing stories, drinking coffee, smoking fat cigars and philosphising.