Every boy will always remember his 1st car. I know I remember mine. I bought a 1985 Cutlass Supreme for $50 from my Dad’s cousin who lived in the USA for 1 year. He needed to get rid of it quick, and I was happy to take it off his hands. $50 was a steal, but that did not mean it was in tip top shape. Let start with the outside; the back drivers side corner of the car has been hit four times in the same spot. After the 2nd time of it being hit and repaired the original owner had determined that it was jinxed and just let it be. It took two more blows before getting to me. The radiator leaked around the hose. The hose was fine just the lip on the radiator. It had been patched with glue, and every other product on the market so there was just a huge blob around the leak. I kept a half dozen two liter bottles in the trunk so I could fill up at red lights when it got to over heating. The inside was also a treat. The seats were in fantastic condition, it was by far the most comfortable drive I have ever had; huge lazy boy seats. There was no key to start the car, just a little L shaped bar that was used to push the ignition switch, located halfway down the steering column. There was no felt on the roof inside the car, actually there was, but it was tacked up with thumb tacks. I took it down because it annoyed me when it would fall down as I was driving. This tank drank gas like water. I remember looking at the dial as I went up hills and watching it all get sucked away. My hard earned burger flipped hot dog making money all being drank by this beast.

The 1st morning I drove it to school I left about 5 minutes before my dad and sister. We had a gate at our old house that EVERYONE has hit at one point or another, it sits at a weird angle and it’s tricky to back out of. Well as I was backing out I hit the gas to hard and the passenger side of the car slammed right into the fence. I cut the wheel left and floored it, I just ripped right out of there because just then my dad and sister were coming out the door, and I sure did not want to get caught wrecking the car my 1st morning out.

The whole way to school I am praying that it is just a little ding and nothing to worry about, when I got to school and parked, I looked at the damage and my heart sank, I had pushed the side fender over the wheel right up onto the front window. It was bad. The good thing about having a best friend is they will do anything for you. Jake and I went straight to his house after school, and took the hood off, and the side fender, and beat the mess out of that fender, we smoothed it out as best we could, and put the hood back on. Our 1st attempt at putting the hood back on failed, because it closed at an angle, but we got that sorted out. Sure you could see the damage on the car, but it looked nothing like it did. I told dad I hit the gate, he called me a git and we moved on. I have never told mom or dad the real story of how bad it really was. I guess now the truth is out.

I sold the car for $400, about 1 year later the police showed up at my house and asked me to come pick up my cutlass car from the impound. I was confused for a moment, until I learned the person I sold it to never transferred the title. I still owned the car. It was $700 to get it out. I let them keep it. I am sure it’s a small little crushed cube in some field now. I loved that car, despite all its problems, I owned it and defined me as a person at that time in my life. It was little beat up, it wasn’t the prettiest, and just needed some love to get it moving. Not much has changed.

The year was 1988. I was 10. I was so soccer mad that I wore my little Irish soccer outfit everyday that I was allowed. Ireland was in the World Cup, and the whole country went mad. I had my soccer boots, my shorts, socks and my famous Irish jersey, (that Emmett now proudly owns). Most important, I had my ball. I would play out at my grandmothers by myself, all day just kicking the ball and tackling imaginary players. There were no kids my age for miles and miles out there, but I did not care. I was not very good at soccer in Ireland, and I never really played with anyone, if I wanted to get killed then that was a good way to go about it. Almost like the World Cup then and today where it can get very violent between the fans and players. That’s just sad to see.

When we moved to America, I joined the Sacred Heart Soccer team. We were good, really good actually. We never lost a game and always had fun playing. We cared about each other, and the players we played against.
Here is a picture of me in a game where I scored two goals, this was great because my Nana had come over from Ireland for the 1st time and was able to be there for this game, so it was really extra special. This is the only picture I have that shows I can kick some butt when I want to hahaa.
Actually come to think of it, the picture above and the picture here really show how much I had grown as a soccer player from the age of 10 to 13. I admit, above I look like a goof, I was a goof. No one understood me but myself. This was why I liked being alone in the country every summer. I had Peace.

I have not watched much of the World Cup 2006, Ireland is not in it, and the USA has just been kicked out of it. I spoke to Nana this weekend, and she is sick of it, all they show all day for two months is soccer, and when you only have two channels on TV, and both channels air all the games, it gets old. I was not kidding when I said the country goes mad. Any excuse for a pint. God Bless’em. So there you have it, My World Cup story.

So I am going through a bit of a dry spell…..anyone got any ideas on something to write about? I am open to suggestions. Not much is really happening lately, but I would like to keep the website updated and fresh, so put your ideas in the comments section of this post.

Dutchy ate a squirrel this week, I think Scooter and Scruffy got a nibble. That was gross. That’s my highlight for the week.

I am famous for getting my foods confused. Confused? Me? Never! Well it is true. Send me to the store for the following items and you will get something totally different. Take for example zucchini, if you want zucchini, you will get squash. Parsley? Sure I can get parsley, if you want fresh cilantro! One time I went to the store to pick up some Liptons onion powdered soup, seems easy enough….Well after going to three stores and looking at the same package of this so called “liptons onion soup powder” I gave up, because on the box it has a big picture of Onion Dip (which you can make from the powder) well this did not help me one bit, I am a very visual person, I see dip, then its dip! Not soup. I wrote Liptons a letter, they replied and basically said I was an idiot/nard. Whatever! I’m just a man in a grocery store. When I turned 21 I was so excited I could go buy alcohol. I went to the grocery store and bought myself a “small” bottle of red wine. I sit down, have my nice big dinner and drink my red wine that tastes just awful! But I drink the whole thing because I am 21 now and I am supposed to like this stuff! Over in the corner my Mom is laughing at me the whole time…why was she laughing? It was cooking wine. Kelly sent me to the store to get some cherries for some fancy drinks she was making, I returned with canned cherries. Anyway you get my point, so about this cabbage I murdered tonight. A wise Momma told me one time that if you slam a cabbage onto a hard surface at the core, the cabbage will just fall out, its like magic! Well I beat the ever loving snot of my cabbage tonight and it didn’t fall apart like magic. Before I did all this I tried to call to get confirmation on what I was about to do was correct, I got no answer so I proceeded. About an hour later when she calls back I am informed by the wise old momma that its lettuce you do this with, not cabbage. Good to know momma, good to know.

To give myself some credit, believe it or not, I think I am actually quite good in the kitchen, I sure has heck am not afraid of it, and enjoy cooking vegetarian meals for my beautiful wife, and God Bless her she accepts me, and smiles when I get her veggies all confused. nard. (me, not her)

Watch out for these crazy Irish Cowboys. They are nothing but trouble. And no, that is not a wig.

I have nothing really to post this week, I missed the big Party for Chris B. So I have no pictures, sorry. I know I am not the only nard with a camera, so I can’t take all the blame. Ok well I hope have everyone has a good week, and remember, there is a sale going on for Cattle Prods over at www.hotshotproducts.com hahaaa

Today’s Birthday wish goes out to Chris B. One of the coolest things I like about Chris B is his red hair, any Irishman would be proud to have a head of red hair like this guy. To look at him you would think he is the Irishman of the family and not me. There are many theories behind the red hair that Chris has. The 1st one I can think of is possibly the huge amount of Red Bull the guy can drink. I have never known anyone that can suck down huge cans of energy drinks and chase it with a coke, all before 9am. I witnessed this first hand in Hawaii. It really is a sight to behold. If I was to do that I would end up in the hospital with a heart attack. Chris is a great guy, who is slowly but surely warming up to the crazyness this family throws his way.

Happy Birthday Bro.
Here is a virtual Red Bull, on me. Cheers.

I would like to tell you all about the 1st time I ever saw Jackie. It was around the beginning of my sophomore year in high school. I would hang out around the hallway by the lunch room where the bus would unload each morning. One morning I saw this girl walk past me, she was looking down at the floor, her hands on her book bag shoulder straps as she walked by. She dressed with an attitude of someone who knew what she was going for. She was way to cool for me and I instantly made up my mind that she was out of my league, but I was in love, right there, right then. Lucky for me my best friend Jake lived close to her, so he knew Jackie and would tease me about how he got to ride the bus with her and I did not. But through him I was able to get some conversation time in with her every now and again. I never told Jackie I had a crush on her, I never even made a move. In my mind there was just no way, no how, so why try? One day Jackie asked me if she could borrow my blue tennis shoes? I loved these shoes; they were the one thing I had that made me feel cool in high school. No one else had a pair, and everyone wanted them. They were my ruby red slippers and no one else would take them from me. Before I knew it, I was saying “yes!” in my mind I was like “Of course you can borrow my shoes, are you kidding me? Jackie Colson the coolest chick I know wearing MY shoes?!” I remember the day she wore them, she seemed real happy to be in them. That is the last memory I have of our high school friendship. After that we hung with different circles, and didn’t see much of each other any more. So now fast forward almost six or seven years, and what do you know? She is back in my life, it was real easy to fall in love with her. The sparks fly, a romance is formed and here we are today, high school sweethearts, without the sweets and hearts, just the blue shoes.

Here is the 1st picture I ever took of Jackie, one night she surprised me and came over to my house; this was before we were even dating. When she left, my Dad said to me, “who was that? She is one good lookin girl” I could tell in his voice that he was telling me I would be a fool to let this one get away, My whole life I felt that nice guys finished last, well I am no fool, and in the end I got the girl, I love you J.

I love omelets, but I curse making them, I have spent years trying to make the perfect omelet. Jackie even bought me this ridiculously expensive frying pan specifically for omelet making. I still have trouble with it. It makes amazing pancakes though!

So yesterday our dear cousin Heather all the way over in Alabama sent Jackie an e-mail forward about how to make a Ziploc Omelet. A what? You might ask. Well, bring a big pot of water to a full boil. Get a zip lock bag with two eggs, some chopped veggies or whatever, and some cheese. Put it all in the Ziploc bag, mix it up and drop it in the boiling water for about 13min. Out comes a burrito like omelet perfectly cooked and without all the grease and clean up!

I tried it out this morning, and it was awesome! Two eggs made the biggest and tastiest freaking omelet ever. It was awesome! What’s even better about this is you can cook all different kinds of omelets at the same time, and everyone can just dump their own stuff in it. Sounds like the perfect plan for any family trips that come up. One recommendation I would make is to go with some heavy duty Ziploc bags.

Thanks Heather!
Greg.