dia dhuit (dee a ghwit). Twenty Major.

One of Dublin's most notorious bloggers. Check it out - and may God be with you.

I come from Dublin, Ireland. This is my blog. I am a kind, considerate, gentle person who always sees the good in the world.

I also have four arms, a hundred brothers and I own Tallaght. Some people ask “Is Twenty Major’s real name really Twenty Major?”. To them I say “Twenty Major’s real name is Horace Understudy. Or Twenty Major’s real name is Arnold Micstand.”

I drink in Ron’s bar. He has the best Guinness in Dublin. He is also a big cunt so I wouldn’t bother dropping in. I drink with my mates Jimmy the Bollix, Stinking Pete, Dirty Dave, Lucky Luciano and sometimes Splodge who has a big fuck off birthmark on the side of his face, hence the name.

I have a dog called Bastardface, he is enormous and eats knackers. I also have a cat that I rescued from the banks of the canal near Dolphin’s Barn. He is called Throatripper and he kills stuff.

If you want, you can see Twenty Major take a poop all over the world.

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And I thought I hated Suzanne Vega's "Luka".

Remember that song from 1987? "My name is Luka. I live on the second floor."

Still hate that song. But apparently not as much as Twenty Major, an Irish blogger from Dublin (one of the most popular). I check him out from time to time. And some people say I'M a curmudgeon? He's got a great writing style - if you read his posts out loud, you WILL sound Irish. No shit. My only criticism of Twenty Major is that he needs to curse more in his blog posts.

With him around there will always be someone who's more curmudgeonly than your's truly.

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Why I Blog.

There are a number of reasons I blog.

Most of my family and my largest network of friends are in Wisconsin, Iowa and Illinois - with a few others scattered throughout Minnesota, Arizona, Washington and Pittsburgh. This is the best way for them to keep tabs on what I'm doing with my life in California. And they do care.

I'm a writer - a playwright, to be more precise. My blog is a writing exercise. Like one of my plays that may never see the light of day on a stage, this blog may only be seen by a limited amount of people, but it's one of a number of creative outlets at my disposal...like a journal, helping me to organize my thoughts.

I've had visitors from 50 countries. Some spend a minute perusing. Others spend a half hour. Many check in weekly. Others may never check in again. I can see who's been on the blog - mostly I do it to see what visitors from other countries I've had. Today, someone from Armed Forces Europe - Middle East/Canada - visited one post in particular, and downloaded a picture. It was the following: http://jeffircink.blogspot.com/2007/07/happy-4th-of-july.html

The picture downloaded was of the American flag, circa 1812. I'm certain it was someone in uniform. For that reason alone, this blog has brought joy to someone very far away. Someone who is helping to protect you, myself and other Americans so we can sleep safely at night.

And that makes me smile.

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California as viewed by a couple Irishmen

Twenty Major is an Irish blogger in Dublin. This is a recent post:

“Here, Twenty”, said Dirty Dave, “why exactly do they go on about California being such a great place to live? I mean, it strikes me that it’s a bit shit.”

“How’s that?”

“Well, look at those old forest fires at the moment. Not even Lloyd Cole himself could have forseen forest fires like those. A million people being evacuated, thousands of homes being burnt. It’s not good, is it?”

“It is not.”

“And with so much wealth in California you’d think they’d install some kind of sprinkler system to help when things like this happen. It’s not exactly the first time, is it?”

“True enough.”

“So you have an administration that knows there’s a problem but doesn’t nothing to prevent it. And as we know prevention is better than The Cure. Even Robert Smith would agree with that. Then there’s the earthquakes. That there San Andreas fault is a cunt of a fault. The whole place could fall into the sea any minute. Yet people still want to live there.”

“They are quite rare, in fairness.”

“So are eruptions on Mount St Helens but you wouldn’t find people living on the side of it. Don’t they also have problems with rolling blackouts?”

“I think the things have calmed down since the Rodney King incident”, said Pete.

“No, you jamrag. The electricity goes off all the time, like someone has forgotten to feed the meter.”

“Oh.”

“Then there are celebrities everywhere you look. There’s a celebrity as governor. Arnold fucking Schwarznegger of all people. What the fuck is that about? You can’t turn around with bumping into some blonde actress or wannabe film star. And as we all know these are the most insipid, vapid people on earth. It’s good that they’re all in one place, like some kind of leper colony, but you wouldn’t go live in a leper colony, would you Twenty?”

“No, I don’t suppose I would.”

“The main cities. LA is a smoggy hellhole where you could be drive-by-shooted any minute and San Francisco is no place for anyone who likes to get around by bicycle.”

“It’s a compelling argument.”

“So why would anyone go live in a place on the brink of natural disaster inhabited by cunts?”

“They have some nice weather, I suppose.”

“Oh yeah, forgot about that. That explains everything.”

Twenty Major's blog can be found at: http://twentymajor.net/

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