AFPDublin: Report

From: donal@indigo.ie (Donal Cunningham)
Subject: [F] AFPDublin Meet Report
Date: Tue, 20 Jan 1998 01:25:11 GMT
Message-ID: <34c5fc29.2715561@news.indigo.ie>


Meet Report for AFPDublin
=========================

Part the First, Friday night
Attending: Penny "Ms. Pen" Parkin
           Richard "Dog" Bryant
           Darran "D-Away" Rimron
	   Donal "Donal" Cunningham

Having with a supreme effort of will wrenched myself away from
#afp, and with the greetings to be passed on from Marina and esmi 
fading fast in my short-term memory, I raced into The Oliver
St. John Gogarty in Temple Bar and upstairs to the Trad. Music
bar, where I encountered the esteemed Ms. Parkin (whom I had
previously met at an AFPDublin meet, the legendary Mr. Rimron
(whose name I spent, oh, a good half an hour *completely* failing
to pronounce properly), the pitbull's Pitbull, Mr. Bryant, and
probably the longest run-on sentence used in a meet report.

Bugger this for a lark. Run-on sentences will get me lynched at
the next meet.

Darran's T-shirt was scarily familiar, since I'd only read Simes'
web pages earlier in the day, and complimented the wonderfully
understated shirt he wore over it. Nice bloke. Bought me a drink
straight away, which I always appreciate in someone who's just
met me. We chatted quite a bit, as Pen was sitting up with the
musicians, who were setting up for quite a session, by the looks
of it. Split levels in the bar floor meant that normally quite
sober people were falling over for no apparent reason.

About 9:15, Bryan and I having decided that Darran should
be spared the trip to the airport, we wandered outside and hailed a
taxi. The taxi driver was a fair sport, and during the Accent 
Identification phase of the journey pegged Bryan as a Dub(liner),
a lie of truly mindboggling proportions.

While Bryan headed off to Burger Thing to get us some food, I
waited by the arrivals area. Neither of us could remember from
which airport Alex and Piers were coming, and this was made all
the more hazardous by the fact that there were two flights
alledged to arrive at 9:45, and that one of them was a good
half-an-hour late. The fact that I knew neither Alex nor Piers
was neither here nor there. Well, the lads came though, and
kudos to lspace.org and Gillian's #afp pages for helping me
to identify Alex. We shook hands, hit the Burger Thing, and
those not eating smoked a very much needed fag. A taxi got us
back into town.

When we arrived back at Gogarty's, the place was *jammed*. The
musicians were in full swing, and greetings were exchanged.
Bryan took of his jumper, the heat being somewhat oppressive,
and we admired his tattoo, the t-shirt ("I'm *not* with
Clarecraft - Treat Me Rough") having come off with the jumper.
Much to the disappointment of several ladies at the back of
the bar, Bryan re-robed and we fell to chatting. Gillian was
rung and greeted. *Nice* lady.

The bar closed at 1, and we headed off to Bryan's for a nightcap,
losing Pen on the way. At Bryan's Bailey's and wine werwerved to
those who were drinking, and a pack of Cadbury's fingers went
down very nicely indeed, as did "Star Wars". IRC proved unworkable
due to the extreme suckiness of Windoze NT, and so to bed.


Part the Second, Saturday night
===============================

Attending:	Penny Parkin	Donal Cunningham	Piers Forrest
		Alex Ridge	Emmet O' Brien		Martin
		Darran Rimron	Brian Nisbet		Claire Hayes
		Colm Buckley	Tony Finch		Catherine
		Richard Bryant	Mike Knell		Simon Rooney
           
Well, in the best traditions of, well, me, I managed to turn up late.
Two batches of homemade Chocolate Rum Truffles accompanied me.
The lads had very kindly saved me a seat, and food was being consumed.
Darran turned up a little later, and Penny passed presents around.
Exciting particular interest were two 5" swords with blades that lit
up when a button was pressed, and people amused themselves greatly
by sticking them into {drinks, noses, other orifices} and having
mock battles. The band kicked in fairly shortly afterwards, as Penny's
Jelly Belly Gourmet Jelly Beans met with general approval. The
truffles were proving quite popular, and even the non-chocolate
eaters tried 'em.

Talk did the usual circles, with a Strategic Emmet Limitation Device,
namely the pint glass into which went 20p for

(a) every bad pun
and
(b) every gratuitous Monty Python quote.

The band, who'd been playing at a previous meet in November when Mike
was over, were starting to kick ass quite nicely, with particular
favourites being "Don't Come Back, You Wanker", a cover of Oasis'
cover of The Beatles' song of a slightly similar name, and "Anarchy
in the UK" with a *slight* change of tempo half way through. Mind
you, the Princess Diana tribute "Tell Laura I Love Her" didn't make
an appearance, but Alex got fined a quid for getting the band (via
Bryan) to play "Always Look on the Bright Side of Life" in the hopes
of being able to fine the entire bar 20p. Alas, it was not to be, but
all those who sang along at the table paid up honourably. In fact,
we all joined in with several songs during the course of the evening,
earning ourselves looks of bemusement from the other bar denizens.

We tried ringing Marina from the bar. Tch, fat chance. Bryan then
nipped out and rang her. Between IRC and phone, we figured he must
have been Marinating for a good hour and a half. |-)

At 12, the bar closed, and shortly afterwards we decamped to Eddy
Rocket's
Diner for fud. Those not eating headed up to Colm and Claire's, where
whiskey, tea and coffee were dispensed to the thirsty. The balcony
provided excellent gratuitous pedestrian-insulting possibilities,
since the flat overlooks Temple Bar Square. Things didn't really go to
hell until the eaters arrived. If you've never seen Colm and Mike
boinging to the Teletubbies, you really haven't run the entire gamut
of Things That Will Make You Wake Up Screaming For Weeks Afterwards.
Music of diverse types was played, and Simon got a backrub. Goodness,
but Colm has some *damn* nice whiskey, and Penny had obtained some
Middleton Inna Coffin.

Eventually people headed for home, and your humble author hit Chez
Bryan once again, where IRC was perpetrated. Piers managed an
excellent impersonation of a Space Alien when being put to bed by
Bryan, babbling in some language that none of us spoke, even when
asked to repeat himself.

Eventually we hit the sack, and er, well that's about it.


Quotes:
=======

"A penis causes less offence; put them back in your
pockets right now!" - Claire

"Gratuitous Python quotes cost 20p, as do really bad puns... it's
basically an Emmet-limitation exercise!" - Bryan

"I met him at Octocon; he had hair and no beard... someone's turned
his head upside down." - Bryan

"Tony's melting now; I hope you've pleased with yourself." - mpk

"Now you have to suck that clean - come on!" - Darran

"You've heard of sado-masochism; this is sado-massage!" - Claire

"Oh Simon, I'll let you squeeze in there..." - Katherine

"I used to be able to keep it up, but now I can't!" - Simon

"Drinking decaf is like faking an orgasm while masturbating." - Piers

"One's 12, one's 16 - which do you prefer?" - Simon
"You can only get arrested for one." - Piers

"If that's a note flute, I'm going to shove it up your arse!" - Bryan

"We should shove Darran off the balcony; that would kill two birds
with one stone... or rather, three birds with sixteen stone." - Simon

"With Bryan, every line's a feed line..." - mpk

"Emmet, either speak faster or shut up." - Bryan

"Hello? Hello? Who is this please? Hello?" - Marina
"Timov! You haven't changed..."    "*You* have. You've *devolved*."

          - Soul Mates, Season 1, "Babylon 5"

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