will the real david cassidy please stand up?

So since everyone is doing this doppelgänger thing on facebook and seeing how kind some of these people were to themselves. I decided to take a realistic approach to the whole thing. I could of put up any old fool who wears clubmasters but after looking at a picture of me, taking two years ago, I decided the world should know the truth.

I looked the splitting image of the famous 70's pop icon David Cassidy. Me, being a David Cassidy, just makes the whole story that little bit more interesting.

The above is not a picture of myself me, it's actual another David Cassidy. It's a good thing I refer to myself as Davih. Can you imagine the confusion.

Just lets hope I end up being more like George Clooney than what David Cassidy looks like today. I'm so glad I can say I have a very different hairline than himself (the other, more famous David Cassidy).

dedicated to my dear friend lucy

As I have said in a previous post, I hate cats. Just can't stand them and below perfectly illustrates why.

I would never cause physical harm to them. However, mentally, thats a different story.

i heart dublin

I better get back to this blog, I've noticed a follower or two have left my right side. Sorry for the low input but it's been a busy month but I have a load of post in my head ready to jot.

As I just said, January has been a very busy month. Thinking about it at the moment, quite stressful in deed. You see, just finished in my training hospital and now about to embark on the big London. I was meant to be going towards the end of January but my Garda clearance was keep delaying me. Now I'm going at the end of February. I have my accommodation sorted now but that was a great factor in the hassle-filled month that is coming to an end. Just have to worry about money, so working nights to get as much as I can. However, nights have led to me been very unsocial like and an empty blog as we have discovered.

So my mind has being very London bound of late and for good reason too. I was just getting so bored of Dublin and with the current economic situation, it just made more sense to move. And I just don't think I could live in my house any longer. My family can be a pain in the ass, as I've said before I'm no Saint Davih (so basically I'm admitting I'm equally at fault at some of the rows in the house too) but it's definitely time to leave and grow up a little on my own accord.

Of course I will miss my friends and my family (eventually) but I just wasn't feeling Dublin any more.

Then one Saturday night when I was heading to my mates house, I was walking through town (Dublin city) when it began to snow heavily. The snow had been about now for a week at this stage but I never seen the centre of Dublin like that before. I was even saying to everyone that this was so magical, lame I know but true all the same. You see, you would never see such a thing, the snow would generally be grey and horrible an hour in to it been settled on the ground. I was just very lucky that I got off the luas when I did.

This just gave me a new found respect for Dublin, it made me realise how much I love and adore the place. Generally I hate the hating Dublin gets at times but to be honest I was getting sick of it. That was then and this now, and coming back to Dublin will be a pleasure every time I do. I heart it so much and all the people in it close to me too (I knew this would eventually get sentimental). So when I land in London airport, I know I'll be thinking of the next time I'm sitting outside on St.William Street with my mates.

Dublin equals good times equals Dublin hearting.

if there's a will, there's a christmas decoration

Last Christmas was tough, I just lost the festive spirit. However this year I think it was restored to some extent, I was evening working from the 25th-27th and not a bother.

I think it's mainly because of my niece. Last year she just crawled around not doing much, this year she says 'Ho ho!', at the sight of Santa and gets all excited when the Christmas tree lights go on. Not only that but the Christmas shopping, getting to see the lights on people's houses and most importantly, the decorations.

Yes Christmas tree decorations are my favourite thing about Christmas, I just adore them. I dressed the tree this year, I was in awe with how beautiful my tree was. I would actually prefer to watch the tree than a film, it puts my mind at ease. I make it my duty that decorations are bought for the tree every year, one year I even got Christmas decorations for my mam's Christmas present. The above picture is not justifiable in comparison to the decorations that tangle gracefully on my tree.

You may laugh, but my tree is amazing. I have (and this is no lie) asked for the decorations to put in my mam's will. My sister has objected such a thing, the following only stresses how much these glowing objects are to me. She doesn't think its quite fair that I get ALL the decorations. I wouldn't mind but she's getting all her jewellery. She has developed a plan that the decorations should be divided, that one person picks five, then the other picks their five and so on until there is no decoration to spare.

However, this will never be the case. I will bring it to the courts if I have to, family or no family, these Christmas decorations are mine.

in loving memory

Last week I lost something very dear to me. I could always rely on him to provide warmth and time to let me think. It was his luxurious scent that put me to ease. He was there for me since as far as I can remember, any time I had to relax, think , put my mind to rest or even just for a good clean, I could always count on my him. Although he got cold on me after a while, it wouldn't take much to warm him up again.

Home just doesn't feel the same any more, I go into my bathroom and fall to the ground in tears. Now I'm left standing in despair when all I want is a bath, I'm left with a bloody shower. Yes, you see, my loyal companion of nearly 23 years is gone. Thrown at the side of my garden ready for the skip. I didn't even get to say goodbye. Although I had a last bath, I didn't know that was going to be the last. If I had of known that I would of prepared myself, I would of got bath salts and candles. I would of made it special.

I'm totally distraught, as you can imagine. Not only have I lost something very close to me but now I have to face a poor substitute to cleanse my mind. The days of relaxing, putting my feet up, are long gone. To the bath I cherished from the bottom of my heart, I miss you and no shower will ever come close to the times we shared.

R.I.P (1985-2009)

i'm a boobietarian

Yes you heard me,

basically it means I exclude boobs out of my daily lifestyle.

Even when I was a baby, my mother said I was the only one that never took to breastfeeding. She blames the milk......

....however I think different, even at 6 hours post-delivery I couldn't stomach the concept of a breast in my mouth.

When I starting playing dump, kissing girls, pretending it was like the best thing since slice butter-I knew the thought of go up along the outside of someone's bra would make me die inside.

I've never felt up a girl....no lie!

I ran into to a wall once, when someone came chasing towards me with the notion she was going to smother to death with her boobies.

I can't understand the attraction to them, even with all the things you can do with them (like down below), I can only find ways to dislike them. My dislike has grown to become a great hatred of recent years and below you will get my 11 reasons why:
#1-The right breast.

#2-The left breast.

#3-The formation of the two, the set basically.

#4-The nipple.

#5-Saggy breasts, nothing scares me more when they hang. And women out there let me tell you another thing, they don't improve with age. They become drooping testicles with eyes pointing out at ya.

#6-Fake breasts, the ones that defy all the laws of gravity. Just let them be, stop adding unwanted attention to the yokes.

#7-The tan line that breasts leave behind. Like if your gonna have them, you might as well let them see the sun. Or is that girls really do know how manky they really are?

#8-When the nipple is a far darker colour than the boob itself or when the nipple devours the whole breast. It's like they caught AIDS or something. And the inverted nipples are rank too.

#9-When one boob is bigger than the other. How unfortunate for such an unfortunate creation that I have to suffer to see everyday of my life.

#10-The sexual image of them makes me cry. Someone once told me how she made someone cum all over her by giving him a titty wank. Picture the pearl necklace folks.......ain't pretty is it?

#11-Finally they produce milk.........vomit!!!

77 anyone?

Lately I've beginning to think, if you want anyone to see Dublin in it's true glory. Pop them on a 77.

Why? I'll explain.

I get on the bus and walk in with a group of everyones. You have the following (highlighted in green);
-The ordinary people-the people that work at banks, shops or where ever they work. Who listen to their i-pod and cause no harm. The ones who just want to get home to their families or friends. The ones that look out the window waiting for the bus stop to arrive.

-The troublesome- they're the ones on the back of the bus upstairs that always make that annoying women talk from the speakers, "Dublin bus would like to remind you, that it is illegal to smoke on all buses........".

-Then you would get the Travellers coming on, probably start a fight within their clan and then drift on into conversation, which is more like mumble to my ears. Something about playing golf and you just know that doesn't contain a 18 hole golf course.

-You usually get the junkie types, swaying side by side off their seats but managing to stay on the seat all the less, they usually get off at Cork street though.

-The emos and rockers-they speak for themselves in appearance more than anything else.

-The school-kids\teenagers-bring the noise to the bus. If it's not their ridiculous talk in show, it's their phones playing music aloud.

-The gays-this would include my fabulous self, a highlight of the journey if i may just add.

-The pram pushers-the ones that block the entrance for the whole journey.

-The pensioners-talking about the old times, bingo on Sunday night or the latest news that hits the airwaves. Looking at every new passenger with a smile.

-The foreigners-most likely Polish or from Africa. Coming to Ireland in hope of a better life, the ones that never are a spot of trouble, well on the buses in anyway.

My point. In such a journey we get to see Dublin. We see all that represents Dublin, well maybe apart from the super rich. But I'll bring my guest to Legs to see that.

You see, people forget that Tallaght has a population of well over 100 thousand. They hear and witness the bad but forget the ordinary, the ones who cause no harm, the ones who take a bus to go home to their precious kids. The ones that look at the minority in disguise, who are ashamed of their neighbours that cause so much unwanted trouble.

I'm no Tallaght romantic, I'm well aware of what takes place. But I'm also a firm believer that if it wasn't for my Tallaght roots, I would have become a narrow-minded fool who could never understand the 'buts' in life. Who just thinks one way but can never stir their thoughts in a different direction.

So please, I beg, all you Hitlers and Stalins out there, don't nuke Tallaght!

Why?

Because I have a 77 to catch tomorrow morning.

the writing's on my ankle

When I went away to Thailand, Etain and myself got drunk one night. To be fair Etain was far drunker than myself but in the end we decided to get a tattoo on our ankle. We wanted something small. At one point I think a freckle was suggested but we soon said let's do some thing that means something to us both. So me, being very fond of my history and gay heritage, I suggest a triangle. It would be a triangle that points towards the ground, like the ones down below. This triangle represented the homosexuals that were killed in the concentration camps in Nazi-Germany.
We ended up getting a black triangle each. Then I thought to myself the pink triangle represents the gay men that were victimized in Nazi-Germany. Our triangles were black. So basically my triangles mean shit to me. They weren't pink, so they have nothing to with my heritage at all, I have a black triangle that means absolutely nothing to me. And if you saw the triangle, you wouldn't even think it was a bloody triangle, looks like a faded heart to me.

Then I thought myself, what does the black triangle actually represent?

Well, at first I discovered it represented the anti-social which included; mentally-disabled, homeless, alcoholics and prostitutes.

But then to my annoyance, I found that lesbians were giving this colour as a representation of their sexuality.

Well I'm not impressed! I'm actually becoming a lesbian. The majority of my close friends are lesbians. I had to stop going to the L word viewings because I felt I was becoming to close to having my penis fall off and then everything would change vagina like. But now I have a symbol on my ankle that says I'm a lesbian too.

What have I done?

I'm gonna have to get this thing changed quick especially before I start liking girls (oh my god, I think I'm going to vomit).

'08 meant.....

What did '08 mean to you?

Well here's what it meant to me...

Song of the year:
'Forever' by Chris Brown
For the simple fact that it still sounds so fresh 7 months on.....I have it on repeat!

Band of the year:
MGMT
I loved them the minute I was introduced to them. They were the band that defined my experience in Thailand and to this day, when I hear the intro to 'Kids' it just puts me in good form.

Moment of the year:
Thailand
From the partying on the beaches to laying on the beach watching the shooting stars. Friends, mushie skakes, vodka buckets, elephant rides, treetop jumping/gliding, my tan and not forgetting all the hot talent half naked on the beach. Looking back at it, I wouldn't change a minute of it (well maybe the few minutes when I lost Etain's camera-I'd change that Etain, I swear!)

Person of the year:
Kirsten 'Grace' (Walsh) Cassidy
And you thought it was going to be Britney. It was close don't get me wrong but I realized my fat, red-headed goddaughter is just that extra special.
But it was very close!!!

Worst thing of the year:
Being ,"a liabilty!"
I had five new phones in the space of 3 months. Lost and broke an i-pod. Lost two cameras and one received some water damage-never goes on sadly! I don't even have my own pair of keys for my house because I lose them....it's bad!

Film of the year:
WALL-E

It really is a jem, enough said.

Quote of the year:
"I don't need keys. I have contact lenses!"
One of my blackout moments.

Let's hope '09 is just as interesting....

i got my head shaved

Woo-hoo

No, they aren't pictures of me, I'll get to why Colin Farrell is there in a short while.

It's true, I used to have long hair. In fact I was often mistaken to Jesus. The only difference my hair was in fantastic condition. It was long, silky, never seen a split end or a ghd whereas I'd hate to wonder what product went into that man's hair. It came to the point were women envied it, so much that I was dragged to a salon by a woman (Etain Kidney) to get rid of it.

Do you know what though? I have no regrets. As each hair fell swiftly on the ground I smirked with happiness. I hid this carefully though, hate for Etain to get a bigger (than she already has) head. For once, I felt I could walk down the crossfires of Kilnamanagh without anyone rising their head to see if I was a girl with a beard. Being a gay man, I no longer felt like the raging fairy that flew across the scene (secretly i still am, just hiding it better with a shaved head and a boyish walk I learned to adapt from my Tallaght peers).

Then I look in magazines and see the likes of Colin Farrell with long hair and I'm like what the hell was I thinking. He don't look hot with long hair, he looked hot with short hair. Now, look at the pictures above (understand the usage now?), it is clear Colin is hotter with short hair-what the fuck is he thinking? Maybe he's taking on my own advice which was that every man should attempt to grow their hair once and see the results. Lucky for me I was hot with long hair, Colin ain't! I don't like to be the one to say it but it's true.

I understand why David Beckham, now with a shaved head showing off his golden balls is making millions. The reason-it's hot. If he had the hair he once frolicked around with, it would like a Baywatch advertisement in black and white. That may sound good but not in relation to guys-to cheesy! Shaved head and in a black+white shot-HOT!!!(I add the capital letters with male perspiring passion).

Don't get me wrong some men, like myself, can get away with long hair. These people are Antonio Banderas and Johnny Depp. And they are hot in every way a man should be. If anything they are properly hotter with the length (Antonio Banderas in Assassins, point made).

My point in the end of the day, Colin should shave his head and I'm a happy camper with my new short hair do.