Monthly Archives: June 2010
How cunning
I have suffered a catastrophic failure. Well, not me personally but 3.5″ of internal hard drive which backs up my main drive and stores other assorted stuff (of course this leads to the never ending cycle of backing up your … Continue reading
Reverse Irishmen
“Is the Ivory Coast Ireland?”, asked Dirty Dave in Ron’s last night as we watched the football. He had just caught sight of the Ivory Coast’s flag. “Yes”, I said, “they’re from just outside Ballina”. “Really? I was there a … Continue reading
Terrible World Cup jokes – part 2
Q – Which World Cup footballer was heavyweight champion of the world, lets little kids sit on his knee before bouncing up and down on Oprah’s couch? A – Rocky Santa Cruise. I never even took my coat off.
Death penalty
The death penalty is contentious. I know two wrongs don’t make a right but there are iredeemable people in this world who deserve greater punishment than to live out their lives at the expense of normal society. I find it … Continue reading
It’s funny because it’s in true
Spotted today at a Dublin airport bookshop. Click for big. [photopress:bertiebook.jpg,thumb,pp_image]
Fame, makes the cops work things over
Two people have been arrested in connection with the death of model Katy French in 2007. Leaving aside the fact that Ireland’s media fell over themselves in a competition to see who could be most mawkish (John Waters wins, by … Continue reading
Beaten
Time and time again I tried. Each time it failed. The last time was dangerous. A bit came shooting out and nearly hit me in the eye. I have done what any sensible man would do and kicked it down … Continue reading
No vuvuzelas either
Three minutes to go. We’ve just equalised. They’re pissed off. Striker comes in, looking to win a header in the box. He’s not going to win it. I am. Or, if I don’t, he’s not going to be on his … Continue reading
They’re not even trying anymore
I was watching the Simpsons last night when on came an ad for a new reality show starring a vague celebrity. The spiel went something like: “Kimberly Thingy from Girls Aloud has it all. Fame, money, 5 inch thick make-up, … Continue reading
Don’t beg, it’s unseemly
On Saturday night I got out of a taxi on George’s St, went to the ATM outside Dunne’s Stores, then made my way as far as Suffolk Street. In that short space of time I was approached by two people … Continue reading
On Saturday night I got out of a taxi on George’s St, went to the ATM outside Dunne’s Stores, then made my way as far as Suffolk Street. In that short space of time I was approached by two people begging, hands out looking for change. There was a chap sitting under the ATM asking for change. There was a tramp on Exchequer St playing a harmonica looking for change to be throw into his battered takeaway coffee cup.
Later on, scurrying around the way they do, were the Roma women, some with babies strapped to their hairy chests. Any place that has people congregating outside is visited every few minutes by somebody looking for change. So much so that one can stand outside the Stag’s Head and get accosted by the same chap who then gets narky when you tell him that no, you don’t have any change and that you’ve told him this already twice.
They sit outside shops, underneath ATMs, outside shopping centres, even just on busy streets in the suburbs, they work the crowds, target the tourists, hands out all the time looking for coins. They’re not occasional, they’re ubiquitous now. Perhaps a sign of the recession, perhaps a sign that there’s no will to do anything about them. In recessions past the junkie in the doorway was the symbol of the times, now it’s the panhandler.
Legally it appears to be something of a minefield but it does the image of the city no good. Everywhere you go there’s somebody looking for your change. Any change. Spare change.
I don’t feel guilty though. I work hard for my money, so hard for the money, I’m a private dancer and any old music will do.