Monthly Archives: December 2009
Bleat bleat
“Fuck you I won’t do what you tell me!” Except buy a song which says “Fuck you I won’t do what you tell me!”. After that though, seriously fuck you, I really won’t do what you tell me. Probably.
Violent bastards
This climate change conference over in Copenhagen, a load of hot air if you ask me, but then you didn’t and nobody does which is probably for the best. However, as usual with these kinds of events, there are images … Continue reading
Trendy news
The radio on my Honda 50 Goldwing got stuck on Spin 103.8 this morning. How odd it is. “Smile when you read it” is good advice when you need the voice-over artist to sound cheery and happy. It really does … Continue reading
Tá street an domhain ort agus bhí mé ag bollix na gaoithe
Via Irish Election: Dublin City Council last night voted in favour of a motion by Councillors Tom Brabazon and Críona Ní Dhálaigh that will oblige developers give new estates in the city names in the Irish language only. The names … Continue reading
The iPhone is a reader killer
There are many constants in life. Sun comes up, sun goes down. Irish summer, rain-a-plenty. Grass is green, sky is blue, water is wet, Damien Rice is a tedious, acoustic cunt and Green Party members think they’re Jesus. One of … Continue reading
Down with cauliflower
If I were Taoiseach one of the first things I would do is ban cauliflower. I’m not against vegetables, per se, I just think the world would be a better place without it. I can’t stand the look of it, … Continue reading
Death wish
O’Connell Street, Saturday afternoon, 3pm. It is quite busy, the penultimate Saturday before Christmas. There are people milling about hither and thither. A woman leads a small child by the hand, holding shopping bags in the other. I am waiting … Continue reading
Paul Gogarty’s hilarious tantrum
Check out the video of the Green Party TD’s prissy tantrum in the Dail today. Amazingly funny.
European 44 1/2
I was in the supermarket the other day and I was followed by a man on crutches. Everywhere I went he was right behind. Clickity-clicking that crutchy noise. This bothered me somewhat but not unduly. Until I realised that the … Continue reading
No point dragging this out. The people have spoken, and quite a large number of them too, and the result is conclusive.
Meteor ad bloke is the biggest cunt in Ireland. He wins the top prize … sex with an ebola monkey’s blood torn arse, whether he likes it or not.
Sorry Vodafone bloke, even your poxy radio follow up ad didn’t do it. The smuggy beardness of Meteor bloke won out. You have to give him credit for one thing though – he did it with a beard so now all smuggy beardos around town will be wary of people calling them ‘CUNT’ very loudly over the Christmas period, while cleanly shaven Meteor bloke looks on with fresh faced smugness. The cunning cunt.
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On another entirely unrelated note isn’t it disappointing to find out people you like are actually complete and utter loons? I’m not talking about real life now, because most people in real life are mentalists and spas, but the other day I was reading around and came across mention of Northern Exposure.
Now, I used to really like that show. It was quirky and funny but it also had Maggie O’Connell who was the kind of cute the singer from the Sundays sounded but wasn’t. So I figured I’d find out what she was up to these days as I don’t think I’ve seen her on telly or in film since.
It turns out she’s a God freak who releases christian yoga videos, no seriously, and she’s got that weird look women who are addicted to plastic surgery get. I mean, normal yoga is bad enough, with its stretching and moving and having to bend in unnatural ways, but christian yoga is at least three worse.
She’s not the Maggie O’Connell I knew.