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- Hail Hail
- Me, Myself, and I
- My names Martin McGuckin I`m a 25 year old plumber and work for myself.
Av got a gorgeous girlfriend called Hayley Thomson, a love her loads!
A wee brother that has joined the well oiled company M. McGuckin Heating and Plumbing, a big brother that is an English Proffesor at Uni in South Korea and a cat called Max
Av been across the world and now am back, but all going well a trip to South Korea and Japan is on the cards for me and Hayley next year!
- Deadmau5, We are scientists, the Fratellis, the rakes, the cribs, Maximo park, Kasabian, Razorlight, the libertines, babyshambles, Boy kill boy, the view, Dirty pretty things, rap and hip hop snoop dogg, Jay z .... Techno, Funky house, carl cox, erik morillo, mistress barbara, Yoji biomehanika, etc johnny cash, jimmy hendrix, stevie wonder, basically a like everythin from Frank Sinatra to Frank Zappa!
Old Boy , seven samuri, infernal affairs, Scarface, the godfather trilogy, goodfellas, donnie brasco, donnie darko, the goonies .........
- Football Celtic and Scotland!!!!!! Aussie Rules Football West Coast Eagles
- Scared Of
- The Ghost Train / waking up and being a rangers supporter
- Happiest When
- Were only Fookin Ravin`
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What I imagine travelling will do for me: I will come back energetic, suntanned and wise; I will meet beautiful women from all nations who will sleep with me, love me, comment favourably on my eccentricities and not be bothered that my hair is greying and in profile from forehead to sideburns now looks like the coastline of South America. My trailfinders ticket is for a year, but more than likely I will extend it and be away several years. I will live the life of a hobo, see and learn about the world and develop a Zen-like mien of quietude that will unsettle all but the truly honest. I will meet incredible characters with elaborate life histories who`ll feel the compulsion to confide in me, give me food and shelter. I will be friend of rich and poor man alike. I`ll swap stories with down-and-outs, judges and kings and become a guru, a famous storytelling traveller who has lived through every natural disaster known to man. Then, finally, one day, maybe twenty years later, when everyone has forgotten me, I will turn up on the random doorsteps of former friends and family with a huge straggly beard and knapsack, and possibly a strange flute. My face will be grainy, I will be bald but beautiful, probably with a limp.
"Yes?Can I help you?"
I will say nothing and maybe they`ll start to close the door, and suddenly there`ll be a glimmer of recognition.
"Martin?" they`ll say hesitantly and I`ll nod slowly, closing my cloudy eyes. "Martin, my God it`s Martin. Sean, Paul, it`s Martin. Martin, my God we thought you were killed in that mudslide/volcano/earthquake/crazy shootout in Bogota."
I`ll shamble into the house and be made a cup of tea, someone will take my knapsack, someone else will run a bath. Everyone`ll be chattering around me excitedly, children I`ve never met before but have grew up on legends of me will tug at my frayed trousers but I will say nothing and cradle the tea in my hands like a chinaman.
Hours later I will finally say, in a throaty, memory-laden whisper, "It`s been a long time. A long, long time" And in that moment everybody will know and gasp at the realization that their own lives have been worthless compared to mine. "A long, long time," I will repeat as I hear them on the telephone spreading the word.
"He`s back. Martin. He`s back. He`s here now. What? No. He`s hardly said a word. Something about it being a long, long time."
Either that or I`ll hate it and be back for Christmas because I miss deep baths and pints in Rialto.
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