Monthly Archives: April 2006
Fallout the window, you twats.
I didn’t watch that Fallout program that was on RTE a few days ago because I’m still trying to recover from the trauma of The Day After and Threads which managed to make Sheffield look even more bleak than it … Continue reading
Something I ate?
I sat on the floor head in the toilet bowl. “Bleeeeuurrrrggggh!”, I said as 500 cubic litres of vomit gushed forth. It took so long to get out I thought I was going to die because I couldn’t breath. I … Continue reading
Prince Phillip
So Prince Phillip, husband of the Queen of England, is visiting Dublin today. He’s famous for his witty quotes. This will be his second visit to Dublin as he came here before in 1998. At some point he slipped away … Continue reading
Fuck off, we’re not stupid.
Bloggers who announce everything get on my tits. You know what I mean, the ones who say “Well, I’m giving up blogging. I’ve run out of things to talk about/can’t be arsed/have better things to do” and they only do … Continue reading
Irish Census
Census. I just filled in my census form last evening. Coincided with a card game. How exciting. I hope they believe me coz it’s all true. Honest. Wanna peek? List every person who spent the night of Sunday 23rd April … Continue reading
Kevin Myers resigns from the Irish Times…
…world keeps on turning, much to his chagrin I’m sure. When I started this blog some people suggested I might actually be Kevin Myers. Preposterous. As if I’d resign from the Irish Times. You can write any old bollocks and … Continue reading
Where is the hate? (One for the bloggers)
When are the blog fights really going to kick off? At the moment the Irish blogosphere is quite friendly, relaxed and more or less everyone is quite happy to slap the back of everyone else. Of course there are those … Continue reading
‘Methinks’ my hoop.
People who say methinks do my fucking head in. “Oooh, methinks I’ll have a babycham” or “Methinks I’ll take a lovely walk along the shore.” You’re not living next door to Geoffrey fucking Chaucer. You’re not some kind of yeoman … Continue reading
Plastic Surgery in Ireland
20% of Irish adults would consider plastic surgery according to a new survey. More women would have it than men but still lots of men would too. I wouldn’t. I’m quite happy with my breasts the way they are. I … Continue reading
I will scratch my balls if I want to
Imagine the scene. You are in a queue in a supermarket or a bank or the post office. You get an itch on your head. What do you do? Exactly. You scratch it. The same if you get an itch … Continue reading
Imagine the scene. You are in a queue in a supermarket or a bank or the post office. You get an itch on your head. What do you do? Exactly. You scratch it.
The same if you get an itch on your arm, your leg, your foot or your back (even though scratching them makes you look like some kind of Tom Waits style ‘tard).
Ok, so imagine yourself in the same queue and you get an itch on your bollocks. Why is it that people look at you with such horror and disdain if you scratch? I’m not scratching to give myself pleasure, you four-eyed harridan, I’m just trying to relieve myself of the itch on my scrotum. There’s nothing dirty about it, it’s totally natural.
The other thing you need to bear in mind before you stare at me with such disapproval is that it’s a well known fact that if you don’t scratch an itch you get another itch in a much worse place. So you get an itch on your head, you ignore it and another one pops up on your shin and you ignore than and another one pops up on your arse. Ask anyone who has spent time in a plaster cast, they’ll back me up.
You have to scratch otherwise an itch on the bollocks can only lead to two places:
1 – An itch right on your ringpiece or somewhere in the crack of your arse
2 – That bit between your balls and your hole
So Lady Muck, I either scratch my bollocks in the first place or you’re going to witness me dig around my pants to scratch my hole or my gooch. It’s up to you. I don’t care. I’m going to do it anyway.
If I’m itching I will scratch and I don’t care who sees me so you can fuck right off or I will lift my leg and fart at you because that’s perfectly natural too. If you don’t fart you leave yourself open for spontaneous combustion and I’m not going that way, no chance.