Archive for September, 2008

May I refer you to…

September 25, 2008

One of the mildly interesting things about having a blog is seeing where your hits come from.

Click me I'm filthy

*update (2nd of October):

Click me I'm filthier

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Life on the Moon

September 25, 2008

Fairly at random, I’ve been reading up and watching a lot of Andy Kaufman recently and now I can’t get him out of my mind.
Genius or dick?
Here, on Fridays, an early ’80’s US television show, he introduces The Pretenders, or rather, doesn’t.
How much is planned and intended? The curtain pull for instance.

After the break, Andy has already effortlessly won back the hearts of a heckling and should-be unforgiving crowd… then treats them like children.

Funny, ‘The Pretenders’, as Andy is clearly the greatest pretender ever.
I really can’t figure out if I admire him, merely appreciate him or loathe him.

By the way, Andy lives, but fuck that.

a most addictive nut

September 18, 2008

pistachios
can stop just a moment to slug on white wine
otherwise, just about able to one-hand type between shell pulling
its been three minutes
half an ashtray full of pistachio shells
must stop
must
can’t
typing slows intake
less typing, more shelling
three quarters full
must stop

typing slows intake
less typing more shelling
almost full ashtray
full ashtray stalls
just enough?
enough!

Never, ever enough. Yet somehow, as soon as they’re put away the craving is alleviated.

“It’s beyond my control, sometimes it’s best to go ‘nuh nuh nuh’”. Or: Custard (Whatever works)

September 17, 2008

Back when life was a rollercoaster ride of intense emotion and deep and meaningful poetry was the only means of expression; when only the headiest of philosophical thought could be turned to for either some kind of demented solace or an excruciating attempt to explain my general state of headfuck…
…one day back then I was particularly headfucked. And broken-hearted too.
Throw unrequited love in the mix and it’s proper fun and games time.

I decided to seek out the dingiest bar I could find and drink my problems away – all romantic and idealistic and all like in the movies and all, like.

I stewed myself into drinks for quite some time, staring vacantly across the cosmos – the one beyond the stained wall in front of me, contemplating the true meaning of the songs I was hearing – especially ‘Hey Jude’, and not so much ‘Super Trouper’… before this mad fucker of a drunk engaged me in conversation. I spoke of love-loss and the meaning of existence and the purpose of life and the significance of the cosmos, metaphysics and confusion, misanthropy and realism, existentialism and
-“cushtard!”

He laid on the best damn advice he could dream up out of his twisted-drunk brain, and it’s the best damn advice I ever got.
“Whin yer tinkin all hevvy and tha’ like y’ar now an’ all juzz say ‘cushtard!’. Just!.. SAY… CUSHTERD! … ah haw, haw, haw! Ah jayz. Fuggen’ cushtard, ya know? Djeh knorra meen? Djeh?!”

I knew, and I smiled thankfully at the auld bum.
A word from the wise – just say ‘custard’.

Lies

September 15, 2008

I was taking the piss with my 10 year old sisters, telling them that school days are the best days of your life.
Remembering myself being bemused and eventually annoyed by adults (genuinely or otherwise) saying such things as I grew up, I declared it was a total lie.

I got given out to.

How to defrost a fridge-freezer freezer in thirteen hypochondriac steps

September 12, 2008

1) Plug it out.
2) Stick in steaming vessels of water.
3) Wait.
4) Change the cooled water for more hot water; repeat steps 3) and 4) for a bit.
5) Have a poke around at the melting ice.
6) Get an odd smell.
7) Remember hearing that the gas in freezers is highly toxic.
8) Sniff about for the smell.
9) Feel immediately very woozy and lightheaded, grab phone in case you need to call an ambulance and run for the balcony.
10) Feel better but still somewhat intoxicated.
11) Decide to research it on the Internet.
12) Find out freon is not particularly toxic.
13) Get on with the job, realising there is no leak anyway and think… “that’s odd”.

Optional:

14) Blog about it later and wonder why in fuck it’s a good idea to have eight-close bracket automatically smilified.

It doesn’t get subjectiver than this.

September 11, 2008

World’s greatest guitarist ever* (and ever can be*), Jimi Hendrix, once said there were only two types of music: good music or bad music.

We all know that opinion on everything, especially something like music, varies and we try to take into account the range and variety of other people’s tastes when recommending or criticising something, but ultimately, do we not feel in ourselves that (beyond personal associations like nostalgia) those things we consider ‘good’ or ‘best’ is actual (objective) fact, and that anyone who disagrees is either stupid or crazy?

I for one dismiss and disregard and proceed to snub anyone who even suggests that the description in my opening statement be even marginally other than *objective fact.

Revolver

September 11, 2008

What’s the problem people?
You can follow people in to a revolving door no problem.
It’s spinning just as fast with people coming out, and each person vacating leaves a free quarter for you to enter, at the same speed you would follow someone in to it, but something in your brain tells you it’s not safe.
They will vacate it… won’t they?

Discussing the phenomenon reminded someone of this:

And that reminds me of this:

Exhaustive story behind ’41 hours’ here.

Irish government long-term plan unveiled or: Ireland’s Army

September 10, 2008

Ireland is apparently a backwards country (again).
Is Ireland going backwards though, really?

Rather than follow European counterparts who begin to realise binge drinking and street trouble may be lessened, actually lessened, by looser drinking laws (not to mention cooling off ‘rush hour’ 2AM city taxi queues and all manner of issues the drivers keep complaining about), Ireland tightens laws and chucks everyone out of pubs and clubs at the same (early) time.
Not just that, but there’s no booze to be bought to take home after 10PM.
(That’s just alcohol – drug-busting is also a major priority for law enforcement, and they’re apparently doing well.)

Not only that, but as the younger generations finally open minds and look beyond the confines and strictness of the Catholic Church, the government rule that the contraceptive pill, (which has been around, acceptably, for decades in Ireland) be available now only at full price – no longer discounted for welfare/medical card holders.

They’re also steadily declining access to third level education for those who can’t afford it.

Backwards country, no?

No?

No.

Ireland’s powers that be are planning an army.

First, deprive the poor of education.
Statistically speaking, it’s mostly the poverty stricken who turn to drink (and drugs).
Statistically speaking, it’s mostly the poverty stricken who procreate at a significantly high rate.

Here’s the logic:
We’ve all experienced sex after a long night of drinking…

No cheap drink after 10PM + No cheap contraceptives + No education for the off-spring = a huge generation of thick-as-fuck (but sober!) desperates with a poverty stricken, cut-throat mentality.

Ta da!

Devastating.

September 8, 2008

“Sometimes, to near devastating effect, human beings do things to themselves, or allow things to happen, *for* themselves. Otherwise, we’d never learn.”

…or…

We’ll say the exact wrong thing at the exact wrong time and immediately berate ourselves over it.

We’ll consciously note something going wrong that we could fix easily and not put in the slight effort then and there to fix it, even though we know it will cause a shed-load of problems.

We’ll see the boss coming and instead of looking even ‘fake busy’, we’ll unintentionally make it obvious we’re not doing what we’re there to do.

Trying to impress someone, we’ll do exactly what we know turns them off.

Wanting to be close to someone, we’ll obviously be too cold and distant for them to even get near.

With no craving whatsoever, we’ll go ahead with overindulging on that ‘bad for me’ substance.

In varying degrees, from mundane and irritating to hugely significant and upsetting, we’ll behave in a way that we know too well ticks off people who we care about, so much.

Fire burns. Burning hurts, and fire has burnt us in the past.
We stick our hand right back in there.