http://www.urlesque.com/2009/09/02/urlesque-announces-a-day-without-cats-on-9-9-09/
A whole day without cat related humour? Given I follow LOLcats on twitter, its plain impossible. Will ICanHasCheezBurger lead the anti-coup?
Damnit, cats are funny.
I really want a cat.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
I think I’m having a mini life crisis. The sort where you take stock of what you’ve done in life and panic, and wonder at what point did it all go tits up. Or has it gone tits up? AHHH! Why didn’t I do it this way? What the hell did I do that for? Stop that! Do this! Shit shit shit!
Currently my panic is: What happened to my hobbies? I used to do stuff. Be interested in stuff. Know stuff about stuff. 17 years old - I played bass guitar every day, went horse riding and spent a lot of time helping Michelle out with her horses; I obsessed with music and could reel off reams of pointless music trivia. I was known for my love of obscure, unheard of bands. I followed the results of international show jumping and eventing. I played computer games, like Zeus: Master of Olympus. I had written half the school magazine aged 11. I got the best Junior and Leaving Cert results in my school. I won a Credit Union Poster competition – ooh, the dizzying heights.
And now? My spare time is filled being hung-over, on a bus, scowling at tourists, and doing assignments in a mad panic. And Facebooking. Lots. At least I admit it, which is something.
I don’t like to lay the blame, but I will anyway, firmly at the gates of UCC. Maybe not their fault directly, but I think that’s when it started going arseways. I lost my nerdy attributes. Most likely because I didn’t really want to be there.
And funnily enough, the gleaming allure of becoming a Lidl manager doesn’t exactly excite me enough to while away my hours in the library. I don’t know what my plan is really. Will I do a top up degree? Will I try to get a masters? Just what the fuck am I going to do for the rest of my life? Sure, the idea of frequenting the gay bars of Dublin and playing Little Miss Socialite is all well and good, but not exactly practical. Unless the George want to fund my appearances...
So far, my “hobbies ideas” list is somewhat vague... so far I’ve got driving lessons and toying with the idea of going back to horse riding, given I’m moving out of city centre soon. So Daft.ie is a temporary hobby. I’ve trawled through the freebie culture stuff in Dublin, and enjoyed that. Maybe try and get into writing some more. But I need ideas. Any are appreciated! Or I’ll just have to delete my Facebook account in the vain hope it will free up more time*.
*Ha! As if...
Currently my panic is: What happened to my hobbies? I used to do stuff. Be interested in stuff. Know stuff about stuff. 17 years old - I played bass guitar every day, went horse riding and spent a lot of time helping Michelle out with her horses; I obsessed with music and could reel off reams of pointless music trivia. I was known for my love of obscure, unheard of bands. I followed the results of international show jumping and eventing. I played computer games, like Zeus: Master of Olympus. I had written half the school magazine aged 11. I got the best Junior and Leaving Cert results in my school. I won a Credit Union Poster competition – ooh, the dizzying heights.
And now? My spare time is filled being hung-over, on a bus, scowling at tourists, and doing assignments in a mad panic. And Facebooking. Lots. At least I admit it, which is something.
I don’t like to lay the blame, but I will anyway, firmly at the gates of UCC. Maybe not their fault directly, but I think that’s when it started going arseways. I lost my nerdy attributes. Most likely because I didn’t really want to be there.
And funnily enough, the gleaming allure of becoming a Lidl manager doesn’t exactly excite me enough to while away my hours in the library. I don’t know what my plan is really. Will I do a top up degree? Will I try to get a masters? Just what the fuck am I going to do for the rest of my life? Sure, the idea of frequenting the gay bars of Dublin and playing Little Miss Socialite is all well and good, but not exactly practical. Unless the George want to fund my appearances...
So far, my “hobbies ideas” list is somewhat vague... so far I’ve got driving lessons and toying with the idea of going back to horse riding, given I’m moving out of city centre soon. So Daft.ie is a temporary hobby. I’ve trawled through the freebie culture stuff in Dublin, and enjoyed that. Maybe try and get into writing some more. But I need ideas. Any are appreciated! Or I’ll just have to delete my Facebook account in the vain hope it will free up more time*.
*Ha! As if...
Sunday, May 24, 2009
They always said I was like my father...
...And I'm picking up a few of his habits at an alarming rate, especially when I spend about only 10% of my year in the same county as him. Up until a few years ago, I thought the resemblance was merely physical - same eye colour and shape, dark hair, and stupidly big feet. But now its getting far more than genetic.
I think I first noticed this strange phenomena in a drunken state. When I return home from an evening's merriment, I appear without much warning, much like dad. In the same fashion, I pop my head round the living room to to assess how much noise it is acceptable for me to make - all while trying to give the illusion of sobriety. I find that this only ever leads to you appearing drunker than you actually are. Regardless of whether people are asleep or awake, the ritual continues in the same way. Proceed to the kitchen, switching on every light along the way, and go straight for the kettle. Now, to ponder what to feast upon. Dad will go for the frying pan or more often, he will try to execute a seriously complex sandwich, requiring the fridge to be left open for about an hour. The added bonus of such a culinary delight is the sheer amount of cutlery and crockery that can be used, leading to an opportunity to make further noise with the dishwasher.
I, however, usually opt for the simple bowl of cereal. I bloody love cereal. But I've become a real fan of the classic cheese and ham sandwich, or cooking sausage rolls for the 10 people in my kitchen at 5am.
This is followed by a return to the living room, and viewing countless, pointless pages of teletext, or since getting Sky, stuff-that-pops-up-when-you-press-the-red-button. The only time I have used that little red button while sober is for MTV2 news and for the Beeb's Olympics coverage because I wanted to watch the showjumping and not two people swimming for 10km. Once drunken-munchies are consumed, its off to bed.
Another shared hobby is watching the deep sea trawler programmes that can be viewed on Sky at any given time. I don't know why I find them so enthralling, I have no interest in the subject, I don't wish to pursue such a career, nor does it affect me in any way. At least dad has the excuse of being obsessed with fishing and such. But they are essentially all the same. The season is bad. The nets broke. They all start bitching at each other like menopausal cranks because they get about 4 minutes sleep a week. The food is shit. They encounter a life-threatening storm. Then all comes good in the last quarter of the programme, they net a cornucopia of fish, the weather calms and they all get home safe and sound for a big sleep. Lovely. Yet it will never get old. Am I alone on this one?
I've always been a social butterfly, a quality I attribute to my dad. Everywhere we go, he knows someone, failing that - meets someone who knows someone he knows. In the last year or so, this heredity trait has really taken flight. Its not the weekend unless I have made a new best friend or introduced a newbie to the joy of "Alrigh' my luvver?". The talent of being able to hold a conversation with a stranger on any topic is proving a valuable one in the world of retailing. Much like being an expert on stuff you know virtually nothing about, like aubergines. I don't have the first clue about cooking them, but I can reel off quite a spiel if a customer asks me; Dad can bullshit his way through a conversation about soccer quite convincingly, though I'm certain he knows shag all about it.
Maybe I've sat on the tills of Lidl for too many Monday and Thursday mornings, seeing people's glee in rushing in at 8am to fill up a trolley with cheap plants and gardening gear (it is pretty cheap...). Or maybe I've inherited Dad's interest in gardening. As a hobby, he is quite sporadic about it. For months - nothing. Then the first bit of sun and he is out mowing the grass, making potato beds, moving the evergreen trees AGAIN, and talking about "sheltering plants" that he believes can be made to create a fort like structure around our measly bit of bog. Every few years, nothing beats a bit of fencing. The man loves to fence stuff needlessly. But living in Dublin sorta puts a stop to me indulging my green-fingered urges. There are some dead flowers on my windowsill, but they look right arty in the starfruit cider bottle.
There is a fishing tackle shop beneath my apartment block... should I ever find myself in there on a spending spree, then I'll know its time to seek professional help.
I think I first noticed this strange phenomena in a drunken state. When I return home from an evening's merriment, I appear without much warning, much like dad. In the same fashion, I pop my head round the living room to to assess how much noise it is acceptable for me to make - all while trying to give the illusion of sobriety. I find that this only ever leads to you appearing drunker than you actually are. Regardless of whether people are asleep or awake, the ritual continues in the same way. Proceed to the kitchen, switching on every light along the way, and go straight for the kettle. Now, to ponder what to feast upon. Dad will go for the frying pan or more often, he will try to execute a seriously complex sandwich, requiring the fridge to be left open for about an hour. The added bonus of such a culinary delight is the sheer amount of cutlery and crockery that can be used, leading to an opportunity to make further noise with the dishwasher.
I, however, usually opt for the simple bowl of cereal. I bloody love cereal. But I've become a real fan of the classic cheese and ham sandwich, or cooking sausage rolls for the 10 people in my kitchen at 5am.
This is followed by a return to the living room, and viewing countless, pointless pages of teletext, or since getting Sky, stuff-that-pops-up-when-you-press-the-red-button. The only time I have used that little red button while sober is for MTV2 news and for the Beeb's Olympics coverage because I wanted to watch the showjumping and not two people swimming for 10km. Once drunken-munchies are consumed, its off to bed.
Another shared hobby is watching the deep sea trawler programmes that can be viewed on Sky at any given time. I don't know why I find them so enthralling, I have no interest in the subject, I don't wish to pursue such a career, nor does it affect me in any way. At least dad has the excuse of being obsessed with fishing and such. But they are essentially all the same. The season is bad. The nets broke. They all start bitching at each other like menopausal cranks because they get about 4 minutes sleep a week. The food is shit. They encounter a life-threatening storm. Then all comes good in the last quarter of the programme, they net a cornucopia of fish, the weather calms and they all get home safe and sound for a big sleep. Lovely. Yet it will never get old. Am I alone on this one?
I've always been a social butterfly, a quality I attribute to my dad. Everywhere we go, he knows someone, failing that - meets someone who knows someone he knows. In the last year or so, this heredity trait has really taken flight. Its not the weekend unless I have made a new best friend or introduced a newbie to the joy of "Alrigh' my luvver?". The talent of being able to hold a conversation with a stranger on any topic is proving a valuable one in the world of retailing. Much like being an expert on stuff you know virtually nothing about, like aubergines. I don't have the first clue about cooking them, but I can reel off quite a spiel if a customer asks me; Dad can bullshit his way through a conversation about soccer quite convincingly, though I'm certain he knows shag all about it.
Maybe I've sat on the tills of Lidl for too many Monday and Thursday mornings, seeing people's glee in rushing in at 8am to fill up a trolley with cheap plants and gardening gear (it is pretty cheap...). Or maybe I've inherited Dad's interest in gardening. As a hobby, he is quite sporadic about it. For months - nothing. Then the first bit of sun and he is out mowing the grass, making potato beds, moving the evergreen trees AGAIN, and talking about "sheltering plants" that he believes can be made to create a fort like structure around our measly bit of bog. Every few years, nothing beats a bit of fencing. The man loves to fence stuff needlessly. But living in Dublin sorta puts a stop to me indulging my green-fingered urges. There are some dead flowers on my windowsill, but they look right arty in the starfruit cider bottle.
There is a fishing tackle shop beneath my apartment block... should I ever find myself in there on a spending spree, then I'll know its time to seek professional help.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Exams: A Guide To Procrastination
I have my final exams this week. And that can only mean one thing: An inevitable sense of guilt over the lack of study I've done or am doing. Of course, I'd much rather let my conscience battle this impending doom than actually do something about it, like study perhaps. Besides, there are so many entertaining, yet utterly pointless activities I can distract myself with.
Welcome to the art of procrastination.
5 years of secondary education, 2 (almost 3 - wahey!) years in UCC and now in DBS, has taught me many a valuable lesson. Such as self-motivation and a drive to learn and discover. I've whole-heartedly embraced these skills in finding new ways to put off what I really should be doing.
Given the time of year, exams looming for many, and what with me trying to waste time, I thought I'd share my best discoveries. Some obvious, some which come only after extended (no) study time.
1)BEHOLD! The power of the inceywebs! As David O'Doherty says "If you spend longer than 5 minutes on the internet at a time, you're avoiding something far more important that you're supposed to be doing". Its probably how the internet was invented in the first place. The possibilities are endless; Cats that look like Hitler, b3ta.com, lolcats, tetris (or N-Blox. Its not tetris at all at all), YouTube and of course the curse of Bebo or Facebook... Hell you might even end up setting up a MySpace for yourself.
Which brings me to another amazing way to pass the time. The complete overhaul of your profile on your social networking site of choice. Poring over which shall be your new profile picture, dreaming up witty introductions, and debating whether or not you should admit to your secret love of Mariah Carey in the music section. If guilt is really eating away at you, turn that guilt into a merciless friend cull - deleting the clutter of randomers. Then, with your workload cut down somewhat, comment everyone on your friend's list, no matter how pointless the post. They'll only be delighted, and you've probably done them a great deal in aiding them in their own procrastination.
2) Reorganise your MP3 player - yet another realm of possibilities. Go on a download spree, delete the ones that you've listened to far too many times and have tired of, make playlists to suit every mood imaginable. "Walking through the park of a morning", "I'm having an existential crisis", "Calvin Harris obviously wants me to bear his offspring", and "I'm off to Tesco now" are just a few themes to get you going.
3) Discover your new favourite band/comedian/tv show/celebrity-you'd-molest-in-their-sleep-given-half a-chance. Alluc.org will ensure you need never feel the compulsion to study again, failing that - chortle.co.uk will list pretty much every comedian going. You pick a random name, toddle off to YouTube, et voíla. They may be painful or they might be your comedy epiphany, but you've just killed 3 minutes. Congratulations.
4) Maybe not so utterly pointless activity (they are all worthwhile endeavours!) is cleaning. A timeless classic. That hob is a bit grubby, eh? Get out the Cilit Bang and put on the the marigolds. Put some elbow grease into it! Hell, d'ya know what? Wash the floor. Its a disgrace. So what if it was only washed yesterday? And the bathroom! I can hear the germs from here! BLEACH! I cleaned my room yesterday, and thats really saying something.
5)House perving on daft.ie. Set the minimum at, hmm... say €3.5 million. No maximum. And ta-da! Drool ahoy at pictures of houses that you'll never set foot in, never mind live in. Probably. But, hey, you can dream. My favourite finds so far are:
-Half an island off the coast of Kerry, with lots of dolphin pictures. Sod the house.
-The converted church.
-The castle with a MOAT! I only wish it had a drawbridge.
-Mansions in Kildare which fulfil my childhood dream of having a huge house and a grand estate full of ponies and peacocks.
WARNING: This may prove to be an incentive to study by fuelling your ambition to be successful.
6)Change your dietary habits so meal preparation becomes an elaborate and time-consuming task. You've got exams coming up, you need to stay well fed! Hence your need for 3 course meals. And extended shopping trips to Tesco and Lidl, perusing the aisles. Hint: White sauce needs to be stirred continuously, if you're looking for something that keeps you in the kitchen for quite some time. Or make pizza from scratch. Cook for everybody in the house. And wash everything afterwards meticulously.
7)Look up cheap flights and holidays and daydream about all the wonderful things you'll do. Fiddle around with the dates stubbornly and see if you can cheat those Ryanair bastards into paying taxes only.
8)Start playing Solitaire, no matter how ridiculously hard it is with a laptop touch pad.
9)"Organise" your notes. This preparation to study will fool you into thinking you've actually done some study. Leading of course to a well deserved tea break.
10)Write a guide on procrastination.
Welcome to the art of procrastination.
5 years of secondary education, 2 (almost 3 - wahey!) years in UCC and now in DBS, has taught me many a valuable lesson. Such as self-motivation and a drive to learn and discover. I've whole-heartedly embraced these skills in finding new ways to put off what I really should be doing.
Given the time of year, exams looming for many, and what with me trying to waste time, I thought I'd share my best discoveries. Some obvious, some which come only after extended (no) study time.
1)BEHOLD! The power of the inceywebs! As David O'Doherty says "If you spend longer than 5 minutes on the internet at a time, you're avoiding something far more important that you're supposed to be doing". Its probably how the internet was invented in the first place. The possibilities are endless; Cats that look like Hitler, b3ta.com, lolcats, tetris (or N-Blox. Its not tetris at all at all), YouTube and of course the curse of Bebo or Facebook... Hell you might even end up setting up a MySpace for yourself.
Which brings me to another amazing way to pass the time. The complete overhaul of your profile on your social networking site of choice. Poring over which shall be your new profile picture, dreaming up witty introductions, and debating whether or not you should admit to your secret love of Mariah Carey in the music section. If guilt is really eating away at you, turn that guilt into a merciless friend cull - deleting the clutter of randomers. Then, with your workload cut down somewhat, comment everyone on your friend's list, no matter how pointless the post. They'll only be delighted, and you've probably done them a great deal in aiding them in their own procrastination.
2) Reorganise your MP3 player - yet another realm of possibilities. Go on a download spree, delete the ones that you've listened to far too many times and have tired of, make playlists to suit every mood imaginable. "Walking through the park of a morning", "I'm having an existential crisis", "Calvin Harris obviously wants me to bear his offspring", and "I'm off to Tesco now" are just a few themes to get you going.
3) Discover your new favourite band/comedian/tv show/celebrity-you'd-molest-in-their-sleep-given-half a-chance. Alluc.org will ensure you need never feel the compulsion to study again, failing that - chortle.co.uk will list pretty much every comedian going. You pick a random name, toddle off to YouTube, et voíla. They may be painful or they might be your comedy epiphany, but you've just killed 3 minutes. Congratulations.
4) Maybe not so utterly pointless activity (they are all worthwhile endeavours!) is cleaning. A timeless classic. That hob is a bit grubby, eh? Get out the Cilit Bang and put on the the marigolds. Put some elbow grease into it! Hell, d'ya know what? Wash the floor. Its a disgrace. So what if it was only washed yesterday? And the bathroom! I can hear the germs from here! BLEACH! I cleaned my room yesterday, and thats really saying something.
5)House perving on daft.ie. Set the minimum at, hmm... say €3.5 million. No maximum. And ta-da! Drool ahoy at pictures of houses that you'll never set foot in, never mind live in. Probably. But, hey, you can dream. My favourite finds so far are:
-Half an island off the coast of Kerry, with lots of dolphin pictures. Sod the house.
-The converted church.
-The castle with a MOAT! I only wish it had a drawbridge.
-Mansions in Kildare which fulfil my childhood dream of having a huge house and a grand estate full of ponies and peacocks.
WARNING: This may prove to be an incentive to study by fuelling your ambition to be successful.
6)Change your dietary habits so meal preparation becomes an elaborate and time-consuming task. You've got exams coming up, you need to stay well fed! Hence your need for 3 course meals. And extended shopping trips to Tesco and Lidl, perusing the aisles. Hint: White sauce needs to be stirred continuously, if you're looking for something that keeps you in the kitchen for quite some time. Or make pizza from scratch. Cook for everybody in the house. And wash everything afterwards meticulously.
7)Look up cheap flights and holidays and daydream about all the wonderful things you'll do. Fiddle around with the dates stubbornly and see if you can cheat those Ryanair bastards into paying taxes only.
8)Start playing Solitaire, no matter how ridiculously hard it is with a laptop touch pad.
9)"Organise" your notes. This preparation to study will fool you into thinking you've actually done some study. Leading of course to a well deserved tea break.
10)Write a guide on procrastination.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
25 things
I've stolen this, shamelessly from Facebook. But I like it. Its way harder to come up with 25 things off the top of your head then I originally thought...
1. on May 14th, I'll have lived in Ireland for 10 years
2. I had an imaginary friend called Michael the astronaut as a kid.
3. I've met/harassed the Revs 5 times, getting that little more memorable with each encounter.
4. I love a good wildlife documentary, particularly if its about the deep sea. Also, I love the programs about ocean trawler ships.
5. My feet are horrendously big - size 9 or 10, depending on where I buy the shoes.
6. I have an inexplicable fascination with peacocks and baby pigeons. Also have a fascination with penguins, but thats understandable, as penguins are ace.
7. I have the worst fear of horror scenes set in bathrooms - they mean I can't go until the next day! So much can go wrong... there's the mirrir, taps, frosted glass, the shower curtain. And you're locked in, alone, and probably naked.
8. I miss the beach - hearing the sea, feeling the sand under my feet, and scrawling rude pictures with sticks.
9. I've been horse riding since I was 9, though I'm nowhere near as good as I use to be.
10. I would happily watch episodes of Black Books for days on end.
11. I've learnt the hard way that people called Brian in gay clubs are usually to be avoided.
12. Things I miss most about Cork are my friends, freakscene, tea at lou's, Ruby's, Zam Zam's, Hillbilly's, and even kinda miss Penneys :O
13. Things I miss about home are: My family, the comedic genius of them, the friends that keep me sane when I'm there, the beach, food in the Den, Patsy the busy woman, laughing at how shit Nimmo's is, spinning in the car with Minna, free food.
14. I used to have goldfish called NikNak and PaddyWak. And a bunny called Bugs Bunny. The cat at home is called Cat.
15. At home I'm called Didi, because my younger sister couldn't say Teresa when she started talking, so the name stuck. We're not entirely sure where squiddly originated from...
16. I often make jokes in reference to things that totally bewilder other people... such as Russell Howard and Jon Richardson shows. Cue rolling dust bunny.
17. There are far more cheesy pop gems on my mp3 player than I care to admit to.
18. I used to love Stephen Gately from Boyzone as a kid... oh dear. It explains so much.
19. If I see neon colours, I can't help but smile and go a little wide-eyed.
20. I LOVE to open the foil on new jars of coffee.
21. I lick the yoghurt lid, anyone who thinks this is gross has no place at my dinner table.
22. I'm severely allergic to suxamethonium - a general anaesthetic, so kill me or save me in the event of an emergency as you see fit.
23. I have to eat chocolate in a particular way: Nibble off the edges, bite it in half, then chew one half and let the other melt in my mouth.
24. I make the best hot chocolate EVAH.
25. I really really want to go to Iceland.
1. on May 14th, I'll have lived in Ireland for 10 years
2. I had an imaginary friend called Michael the astronaut as a kid.
3. I've met/harassed the Revs 5 times, getting that little more memorable with each encounter.
4. I love a good wildlife documentary, particularly if its about the deep sea. Also, I love the programs about ocean trawler ships.
5. My feet are horrendously big - size 9 or 10, depending on where I buy the shoes.
6. I have an inexplicable fascination with peacocks and baby pigeons. Also have a fascination with penguins, but thats understandable, as penguins are ace.
7. I have the worst fear of horror scenes set in bathrooms - they mean I can't go until the next day! So much can go wrong... there's the mirrir, taps, frosted glass, the shower curtain. And you're locked in, alone, and probably naked.
8. I miss the beach - hearing the sea, feeling the sand under my feet, and scrawling rude pictures with sticks.
9. I've been horse riding since I was 9, though I'm nowhere near as good as I use to be.
10. I would happily watch episodes of Black Books for days on end.
11. I've learnt the hard way that people called Brian in gay clubs are usually to be avoided.
12. Things I miss most about Cork are my friends, freakscene, tea at lou's, Ruby's, Zam Zam's, Hillbilly's, and even kinda miss Penneys :O
13. Things I miss about home are: My family, the comedic genius of them, the friends that keep me sane when I'm there, the beach, food in the Den, Patsy the busy woman, laughing at how shit Nimmo's is, spinning in the car with Minna, free food.
14. I used to have goldfish called NikNak and PaddyWak. And a bunny called Bugs Bunny. The cat at home is called Cat.
15. At home I'm called Didi, because my younger sister couldn't say Teresa when she started talking, so the name stuck. We're not entirely sure where squiddly originated from...
16. I often make jokes in reference to things that totally bewilder other people... such as Russell Howard and Jon Richardson shows. Cue rolling dust bunny.
17. There are far more cheesy pop gems on my mp3 player than I care to admit to.
18. I used to love Stephen Gately from Boyzone as a kid... oh dear. It explains so much.
19. If I see neon colours, I can't help but smile and go a little wide-eyed.
20. I LOVE to open the foil on new jars of coffee.
21. I lick the yoghurt lid, anyone who thinks this is gross has no place at my dinner table.
22. I'm severely allergic to suxamethonium - a general anaesthetic, so kill me or save me in the event of an emergency as you see fit.
23. I have to eat chocolate in a particular way: Nibble off the edges, bite it in half, then chew one half and let the other melt in my mouth.
24. I make the best hot chocolate EVAH.
25. I really really want to go to Iceland.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Snow
Its February. And its snowing a motherload. In Dublin. The wee hours of Monday morning it started, while I was walking home from a night out. After copious amounts of vodka, much fun was had. Snow fights, clambering on bridges, scrawling messages on every car and frozen fingers ensued. All good and fun.
Its now Tuesday night, and the novelty has completely worn off. If it stuck, that would be fine. Delightful, even. But instead it just melts - so my feet are soaked and my jeans are soaking up every puddle I have to wade through. Either that, or it ices up the pavement, people are hobbling about Stephen's Green like they've had a really rough weekend.
Fuck off, snow. I've got my pretty pictures, I'm done with you now. G'wan away out of it.
Is this a sign I'm grown up?
Its now Tuesday night, and the novelty has completely worn off. If it stuck, that would be fine. Delightful, even. But instead it just melts - so my feet are soaked and my jeans are soaking up every puddle I have to wade through. Either that, or it ices up the pavement, people are hobbling about Stephen's Green like they've had a really rough weekend.
Fuck off, snow. I've got my pretty pictures, I'm done with you now. G'wan away out of it.
Is this a sign I'm grown up?
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Lazy, but it entertained me.
My Life Soundtrack
So, here's how it works:
1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc)
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For every question, type the song that's playing
5. When you go to a new question, press the next button
6. Don't lie and try to pretend you're cool....because your not!
Opening Credits:
It's Not Over Yet - Klaxons (Being the opening credits, I shouldn't think so...)
Waking Up:
Song 2 - Blur (Woohoo indeed.)
First Day At School:
It Hurts - Angels and Airwaves (Ah, it wasn't THAT bad...)
Falling In Love:
Get Lost - Patrick Wolf (no joke, freaked me out...have you heard that song?!)
Fight Song:
Mosquito Song - Queens of the Stone Age (My dramatic fight scene is likely to be something as ridiculous as a mosquito)
Breaking Up:
The Great Wide Open - Funeral For A Friend
Formal:
Want It Can't Have It - Paddy Casey
Life's OK:
Stuck With Me - Green Day
Mental Breakdown:
Trail Of Fire - Oceansize (Insanity has a good soundtrack!)
Driving:
Coffee and Giro Cheques - thisGIRL
.Flashback:
Home - Westlife (My shameful secrets revealed!)
Getting Back Together:
Kill The Director - The Wombats
Birth of Child:
Augustine - Patrick Wolf (well, thats the name sorted)
Wedding:
Scumbag - Green Day (HAH!)
Final Battle:
Degausser - Brand New (Its a wonderfully hate-filled song, in an epic way)
Death Scene:
Cannonball - Damien Rice
Funeral Song:
Guernica - Brand New (Another freaky one - its a song about the singer's Grandad dying...)
End Credits:
The Great Escape - We are Scientists (The need to escape wasn' that great, was it?)
So, here's how it works:
1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc)
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For every question, type the song that's playing
5. When you go to a new question, press the next button
6. Don't lie and try to pretend you're cool....because your not!
Opening Credits:
It's Not Over Yet - Klaxons (Being the opening credits, I shouldn't think so...)
Waking Up:
Song 2 - Blur (Woohoo indeed.)
First Day At School:
It Hurts - Angels and Airwaves (Ah, it wasn't THAT bad...)
Falling In Love:
Get Lost - Patrick Wolf (no joke, freaked me out...have you heard that song?!)
Fight Song:
Mosquito Song - Queens of the Stone Age (My dramatic fight scene is likely to be something as ridiculous as a mosquito)
Breaking Up:
The Great Wide Open - Funeral For A Friend
Formal:
Want It Can't Have It - Paddy Casey
Life's OK:
Stuck With Me - Green Day
Mental Breakdown:
Trail Of Fire - Oceansize (Insanity has a good soundtrack!)
Driving:
Coffee and Giro Cheques - thisGIRL
.Flashback:
Home - Westlife (My shameful secrets revealed!)
Getting Back Together:
Kill The Director - The Wombats
Birth of Child:
Augustine - Patrick Wolf (well, thats the name sorted)
Wedding:
Scumbag - Green Day (HAH!)
Final Battle:
Degausser - Brand New (Its a wonderfully hate-filled song, in an epic way)
Death Scene:
Cannonball - Damien Rice
Funeral Song:
Guernica - Brand New (Another freaky one - its a song about the singer's Grandad dying...)
End Credits:
The Great Escape - We are Scientists (The need to escape wasn' that great, was it?)
Friday, January 9, 2009
An open letter to The Jelly Bean Factory.
Dear Jelly Bean Factory,
Having purchased several packs of your "gourment beans" for friends and one for myself, I felt the compulsion to share my feelings with you.
What a wide variety of flavours you offer! All the usual, strawberry, lemon and the like, ranging through to the original grape, cranberry, bubblegum and liquorice. Delightful. However, I can't help but feel you're making a lot of it up. Giving various beans different strange colours and non-distinct flavours, and naming it something exotic DOES NOT a gourment bean make.
Candy floss? Candy floss is just sugar. Jelly beans are flavoued sugar, essentially. So you're giving me sugar flavoured sugar.
Peachy pie. This should just be peach. You'd be on to something then - but the addition of "-y pie" allows you to get away with the fact it tastes nothing like peaches.
Café Latte. I like coffee. I like jelly beans. However, the concept of jellied coffee is as horrific in practice as it is in theory.
Cinammon. You went TOO far with the flavour this time. Its a quiet nasty. You chew it and think "mmm, this is a bit nice..." *chomp chomp*, and before you know it, your taste buds are taken over by a combination of vomit and Aftershock Red. Although, I'll grant that this is a natural and commonly occurring combination, but it isn't one I want replicated in a sweet.
Pina Colada. What a frigging cop-out. You market these things at children. Your target market have never tasted pina colada. Hell, I don't think even I have tasted pina colada. This has given you free rein to make it tast whichever way you want. It actually tastes like cat hair.
South seas kiwi. As opposed to a normal kiwi? Or an excuse to just colour a plain jelly bean snot-green?
Tangerine. Sod off, its the same as orange.
And my other gripe? Why do the nasty flavours go to the bottom of the tub, no matter what?
Yours sincerely,
Teresa Coyne
Having purchased several packs of your "gourment beans" for friends and one for myself, I felt the compulsion to share my feelings with you.
What a wide variety of flavours you offer! All the usual, strawberry, lemon and the like, ranging through to the original grape, cranberry, bubblegum and liquorice. Delightful. However, I can't help but feel you're making a lot of it up. Giving various beans different strange colours and non-distinct flavours, and naming it something exotic DOES NOT a gourment bean make.
Candy floss? Candy floss is just sugar. Jelly beans are flavoued sugar, essentially. So you're giving me sugar flavoured sugar.
Peachy pie. This should just be peach. You'd be on to something then - but the addition of "-y pie" allows you to get away with the fact it tastes nothing like peaches.
Café Latte. I like coffee. I like jelly beans. However, the concept of jellied coffee is as horrific in practice as it is in theory.
Cinammon. You went TOO far with the flavour this time. Its a quiet nasty. You chew it and think "mmm, this is a bit nice..." *chomp chomp*, and before you know it, your taste buds are taken over by a combination of vomit and Aftershock Red. Although, I'll grant that this is a natural and commonly occurring combination, but it isn't one I want replicated in a sweet.
Pina Colada. What a frigging cop-out. You market these things at children. Your target market have never tasted pina colada. Hell, I don't think even I have tasted pina colada. This has given you free rein to make it tast whichever way you want. It actually tastes like cat hair.
South seas kiwi. As opposed to a normal kiwi? Or an excuse to just colour a plain jelly bean snot-green?
Tangerine. Sod off, its the same as orange.
And my other gripe? Why do the nasty flavours go to the bottom of the tub, no matter what?
Yours sincerely,
Teresa Coyne
Welcome, 2009...
Come on in. Make yourself comfortable. Will you have a cup of tea? A biscuit, or slice of cake maybe? I've got Battenburg...
In my excitement of welcoming 2009, I didn't even notice 2008 leaving swoftly out the door. Didn't even finish his tea. I wasn't done with you, 2008. It disappeared far quicker than I expected. Thats ridiculous you say, its a defined amount of time, its a constant, how could it go faster or loiter like a sponger at the Luas stop?
All in all it was a good year. Many new friends were made, I got my course and realised (and more importantly, proved to my parents) that there is life after dropping out, whichever way you end up going about it. I learnt holding grudges just isn't worth it, and to forgive those truly sorry for their wrong-doings. I moved, yet again, and I'm starting to realise what it is I'm supposed to look out for when house hunting. Freezers, for example.
Only I didn't GO anywhere in '08. No holidays, weekend trips, nada. Sure there were trips to see friends, but nowhere new was ventured to. And I intend to fix that this year. I might just start small, go to the UK a few times. Listen to the West Country accent in Bristol and Bath should entertain me for a weekend. Wales is on the list, as is somewhere in Scotland. I won't be venturing to London. Far too obvious, and 11 years was quite enough for me. I'll get that far first, then decide where to next. Though I intend on going on a typical sun holiday. I've never done it, and while its not original, I need to get the urge to do it out of my system by washing it out with copious amounts of cheap spanish vodka. I know, i'm incredibly classy.
*insert standard 'how was christmas'/'was santa good to you' conversation here* I enjoyed christmas. Mostly for the non-christmas parts. I finally got to spend time with my family, most of all my sisters. What amazing people they are. 4 year olds obsessed with "How Clean Is Your House?", 9 year olds talking to christmas trees, and the teenager bringing home Fred from Scooby Doo. Meanwhile, my christmas morning was like waking up in a horror film, thanks to the infection in my back. I won't go into detail... I could only lie down for 3 days and eat a tin of roses. WHY have they changed the sweet wrappers?
I got the shittiest christmas present form Angela. Yes, dear, I am naming and shaming you. A Laundry basket. Not even one from Penneys that looks like a duck. I would have been quite content with that - I actually DO want one of those. But no, just a blue mesh basket. SHIT.
Angela;"But its the thought that counts!"
Teresa;"What the FUCK werre you thinking when you bought this?!"
Other than that, I got Mighty Boosh tickets :D and did a lot of nothing. Excellent. New years was a sober event for me, and I vow I will never again grace the doors of Nimmo's club in Clifden whilst sober EVER again. Ickity. Cattle market. And full of 'bad' drunks. The emotional ones, the fighting ones, the falling ones, the pervy schmeery ones, the ones with hands so shaky they couldn't win an egg-and-spoon race even if the egg and spoon were glued together. Even the fun drunks began to grate on me somewhat, but that was more a slight jealousy on my part.
So 2009 so far... I've returned to college, and delightfully found I haven't become as stupid as I though I might have. I went to the Mighty Boosh. My alcohol intake so far is one glass of wine with dinner. My friend is sleeping on my floor, and saving me from my own company. When he leaves, I fear for my sanity. Before christmas, I started finding my own company far too amusing. I also turned bisexual for a week, though I think that my painkillers were mucking with my brain, so I was eyeing up anyhting that moved, Holly Wiloughby and Man-From-Scouting-For-Girls to name a few. Though, you can't possibly argue the Holly thing.
Here's to making the most out of this year. Hold it hostage in your living room, but in a Stockholm-syndrome-inducing kinda way. Y'know, break out the nice biccies, the chocolate Kimberlys maybe. Give it the good chair. I'm sure its a kind old soul really.
Happy new year, one and all.
In my excitement of welcoming 2009, I didn't even notice 2008 leaving swoftly out the door. Didn't even finish his tea. I wasn't done with you, 2008. It disappeared far quicker than I expected. Thats ridiculous you say, its a defined amount of time, its a constant, how could it go faster or loiter like a sponger at the Luas stop?
All in all it was a good year. Many new friends were made, I got my course and realised (and more importantly, proved to my parents) that there is life after dropping out, whichever way you end up going about it. I learnt holding grudges just isn't worth it, and to forgive those truly sorry for their wrong-doings. I moved, yet again, and I'm starting to realise what it is I'm supposed to look out for when house hunting. Freezers, for example.
Only I didn't GO anywhere in '08. No holidays, weekend trips, nada. Sure there were trips to see friends, but nowhere new was ventured to. And I intend to fix that this year. I might just start small, go to the UK a few times. Listen to the West Country accent in Bristol and Bath should entertain me for a weekend. Wales is on the list, as is somewhere in Scotland. I won't be venturing to London. Far too obvious, and 11 years was quite enough for me. I'll get that far first, then decide where to next. Though I intend on going on a typical sun holiday. I've never done it, and while its not original, I need to get the urge to do it out of my system by washing it out with copious amounts of cheap spanish vodka. I know, i'm incredibly classy.
*insert standard 'how was christmas'/'was santa good to you' conversation here* I enjoyed christmas. Mostly for the non-christmas parts. I finally got to spend time with my family, most of all my sisters. What amazing people they are. 4 year olds obsessed with "How Clean Is Your House?", 9 year olds talking to christmas trees, and the teenager bringing home Fred from Scooby Doo. Meanwhile, my christmas morning was like waking up in a horror film, thanks to the infection in my back. I won't go into detail... I could only lie down for 3 days and eat a tin of roses. WHY have they changed the sweet wrappers?
I got the shittiest christmas present form Angela. Yes, dear, I am naming and shaming you. A Laundry basket. Not even one from Penneys that looks like a duck. I would have been quite content with that - I actually DO want one of those. But no, just a blue mesh basket. SHIT.
Angela;"But its the thought that counts!"
Teresa;"What the FUCK werre you thinking when you bought this?!"
Other than that, I got Mighty Boosh tickets :D and did a lot of nothing. Excellent. New years was a sober event for me, and I vow I will never again grace the doors of Nimmo's club in Clifden whilst sober EVER again. Ickity. Cattle market. And full of 'bad' drunks. The emotional ones, the fighting ones, the falling ones, the pervy schmeery ones, the ones with hands so shaky they couldn't win an egg-and-spoon race even if the egg and spoon were glued together. Even the fun drunks began to grate on me somewhat, but that was more a slight jealousy on my part.
So 2009 so far... I've returned to college, and delightfully found I haven't become as stupid as I though I might have. I went to the Mighty Boosh. My alcohol intake so far is one glass of wine with dinner. My friend is sleeping on my floor, and saving me from my own company. When he leaves, I fear for my sanity. Before christmas, I started finding my own company far too amusing. I also turned bisexual for a week, though I think that my painkillers were mucking with my brain, so I was eyeing up anyhting that moved, Holly Wiloughby and Man-From-Scouting-For-Girls to name a few. Though, you can't possibly argue the Holly thing.
Here's to making the most out of this year. Hold it hostage in your living room, but in a Stockholm-syndrome-inducing kinda way. Y'know, break out the nice biccies, the chocolate Kimberlys maybe. Give it the good chair. I'm sure its a kind old soul really.
Happy new year, one and all.
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