aka The Stonktabulous Shindiggy Whizz-Bang Boffo Noder's Beano By The Whiffey Liffey Monkey-Fest's Revenge. Are belong to us.

Yup, the Irish noding posse has *finally* agreed to get together. It took a lot of convincing and cajoling. The one condition stipulated is that we don't give it a silly name. So The Emerald Isle Super 1337 Noding Posse Superhero Conference is right out. Irish Puppy-touchers Anonymous Super Drink-up Special has also been vetoed. Hippy Trippy Leprechuan Lovin' Noders Hug-in never stood a chance.

We'll be celebrating the occasion by partaking in some traditional Irish pastimes, like:

The date is Saturday, 7th of July, 2001. Day after tomorrow, in other words. Venues are still undecided. Potential candidates are:

Basically, tell me the places that you think would be cool. Tell me the ones you really don't wnat to go to (there goes Fibber's...). Send me suggestions for pubs that have been left out. Between it all, we will pick a place. Considerations - TheLady suggested we go somewhere we can talk, and we can definitely get seats. I imagine ReiToei wants to go somewhere funky, young deviant that he is. I want to go somewhere that will let me in.

The Time : 7pm. This is unanimous.

Finally, the guest list. It stands at:

Yup, it's probably going to be the smallest get-together ever, but at least the chances of some nutter turning up and creeping everyone out is quite low.

This is only a list of people I know to be interested, everybody's welcome (well, most people...). If you're not on the list, you're in Dublin and you want to attend, let me know.

See all y'all Saturday.

Everything went fine until we started on the mushrooms. We'd gotten ReiToei and K9 to stop banging their heads against the wall of the pub, and ryano stopped running around the place, trying to play tag with the bouncers. I even persuaded him to put his shirt on and stop grinning madly at people to try and scare them, but then bol had to go and tell him that all his XP belong to us, and things kinda went downhill from there.

I was under the table tying everyone's shoelaces together for the previous couple of hours, so I'm not sure what K9 did to deserve the multiple cigarette burns he now has on his face and neck, but apparently they were playing some ancient Irish drinking game which involved hurting nasty people they hate, ie Englishmen. And they don't even smoke.

We made a swift exit through the closed window before they could call the cops on us, but I don't think the bouncers noticed. After a stop to fish ReiToei out of the Liffey we all shepherded each other to the nearest homeless shelter to get some grub and hopefully dry socks for me (I had to jump after the fat bastard and drag him back to shore by his ears, kicking and screaming "but the fish are so beautifooooool!").

That was when I stood on a table and made my empassioned speech in favour of frugality and self sufficiency and against global capitalism and lyrics on E2. K9 rejoined with a plea to end all daylogs, at which point there was a scuffle as it seems a few of the junkies had in the past written some and objected to the careless use of the term "Brood War".

We left ryano to sleep it off with his mates, and bol and ReiToei answered nature's call by going clubbing in hopes of getting some chicks (I think it's for their next preformance art project, they're going to BBQ them or something on stage). My self and K9 proceeded home solemnly and fell asleep in the bathroom; him in the tub, me in the bowl.

I'm had a call from the hospital asking if I knew bol and ReiToei early this morning, but as I can't tell anyone the real truth about them I refused to identify the bodies and went back to sleep.

A Fun Night Was Had By All.

Have to say, i was disappointed. I mean, why does anyone go to these things if not in the vain hope that other people are better-looking than you? It was, bad, man.

I got there late. I recognised bol immediately by the beard, glasses, pony-tail and enormous beergut. ReiToei was there too, not looking much better, although i must say her beard was more neatly trimmed. They were drinking Bacardi Breezers, a sure sign of non-drinkers who're only really marking time.

I managed to squeeze my tremendous bulk begind the table, prompting cries from the locals of "hey, who let Anne Widdecombe in here", which is quite flattering i guess but not really what i was there for. Then TheLady showed up, still in his leathers from a meeting of the local Hell's Angels chapter that had been going on earlier.

Finally, ryano joined us, resplendent in a paisley shirt and stinking of spliff. Where he found room for the Aston Martin i have no idea, but i guess these dotcom millionaires can usually find a way.

We drank for a bit and then we were supposed to like, go to the park and touch each other in mystic harmonious ways. I'd been looking forward to that bit, but somehow got separated from everyone else and while i was in Phoenix Park they went to Merrion Square and frightened the homeless guys. Sickening. I made out with a gorilla who was a lot cuter than my last boyfriend and then went home.

In case nobody noticed, this is not quite how it was, and not quite how we were, either. Photos are up on http://www.the-kennel.org/meeting.html right now. They might not be us, but then again, they might.

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