"People who make decisions about your credit rating, or whether or not you can ever get a mortgage in the future don't deal with you. They just don't. They look at a computer and based on whats written on that screen they push buttons. They don't write polite letters, or make nice phonecalls and have friendly conversations. They don't even talk to you. They wont talk to you."
An educational session on debt management.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Austrailia
Not content with the 70 million labourers, nurses and drug addicts that depart in hordes from Ireland to Austrailia every year, they've now started advertising it.
The big pilgrimage acts as a kind of hiatus between the college years and the real world-the one where you have to get a mortgage, all of your friends start getting married, and people stop carrying nagans in their purses on nights out. The last big chance to drink every night of the week, have unprotected sex, develop skin cancer, and talk with other Irish people about other Irish people that you both know back home through a friend of a friend.
But its not this that offends me.
What has really gotten under my skin is the shameless way they've taken the Aboriginal child from Austrailia (my least favourite film of 2008) and paraded him around a lavish city apartment in his fucking loin cloth. So the abbos are vogue now, are they? Its as repulsive to me as the half-hearted dedication to the lost generations at the the end of the film. Something the film made no real effort to explain or animate as it was too busy framing skeletors translucent face, or zooming in on Wolverine's steriod ridden veins to actually film something that might be interesting to a wider audience.
The big pilgrimage acts as a kind of hiatus between the college years and the real world-the one where you have to get a mortgage, all of your friends start getting married, and people stop carrying nagans in their purses on nights out. The last big chance to drink every night of the week, have unprotected sex, develop skin cancer, and talk with other Irish people about other Irish people that you both know back home through a friend of a friend.
But its not this that offends me.
What has really gotten under my skin is the shameless way they've taken the Aboriginal child from Austrailia (my least favourite film of 2008) and paraded him around a lavish city apartment in his fucking loin cloth. So the abbos are vogue now, are they? Its as repulsive to me as the half-hearted dedication to the lost generations at the the end of the film. Something the film made no real effort to explain or animate as it was too busy framing skeletors translucent face, or zooming in on Wolverine's steriod ridden veins to actually film something that might be interesting to a wider audience.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Overheard in Dublin
Girl 1: I was fucking locked the other night.
Girl 2: No you weren't, you were grand.
Girl 1: I was in fucking bits. I was gee-eyed.
Girl 2: So was everyone else, no one noticed.
Girl 1: I was falling all over the place, I'm covered in bruises.
Girl 2: Sure thats the sign of a good night!
Girl 1: I don't remember going into or leaving the Bull and castle. I don't know how I got home.
Girl 2: I'm telling you... thats the sign of a good night!
Girl 2: No you weren't, you were grand.
Girl 1: I was in fucking bits. I was gee-eyed.
Girl 2: So was everyone else, no one noticed.
Girl 1: I was falling all over the place, I'm covered in bruises.
Girl 2: Sure thats the sign of a good night!
Girl 1: I don't remember going into or leaving the Bull and castle. I don't know how I got home.
Girl 2: I'm telling you... thats the sign of a good night!
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Five women go back to work
RTE's latest.
Five women leave their families and are thrown back into the workplace to see how they cope with the pressures of a full time job and trying to raise a family. Cue scenes of distressed women crying down the phone in a car park.
I didn't realise we'd travelled back to 1953 where this situation might have actually been out of the ordinary. How many more horrific attempts at producing reality TV are RTE going to make before they realise they're humiliating themselves? And who thought up the title? Jesus Christ, theres descriptive and then theres just plain unimaginative.
Next week: 6 farmers go to a Ceilidh in westport.
Five women leave their families and are thrown back into the workplace to see how they cope with the pressures of a full time job and trying to raise a family. Cue scenes of distressed women crying down the phone in a car park.
I didn't realise we'd travelled back to 1953 where this situation might have actually been out of the ordinary. How many more horrific attempts at producing reality TV are RTE going to make before they realise they're humiliating themselves? And who thought up the title? Jesus Christ, theres descriptive and then theres just plain unimaginative.
Next week: 6 farmers go to a Ceilidh in westport.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Living free
Bored, broke, and eating what could be considered breakfast at 6pm, I typed "things to do in Dublin for free" and stumbled upon this top ten list. Needless to say none of them can really be done in daylight hours, which if we're to be honest, kind of sums up Dublin.
My favourite had to be this.
Number 7:
"The Boardwalk: I have to say that when I heard they were going to build the Boardwalk I thought they were daft. Humble pie. Eat. It's one of the best things to happen to Dublin in years. For one thing, it's on the sunny side of the Liffey, for another, it's living proof of global warming - if anyone had suggested to a Dubliner in the rainy 1960s that one day people would sit outside drinking coffee in Dublin they'd have been laughed out of town.
So, particularly in summer, grab a good book and settle down to a cup of Cruises Coffee Co's excellent coffee and just chill out and take in the surroundings. People watch, stroll up and down, listen to others' conversations, study the architecture of the city's quays and, from late 2005, watch the new river taxis as they glide past you. It's been such a success story that they're currently extending the Boardwalk east of O'Connell Bridge."
The only possible explanation for this outrageous review is that it was either written by the people who designed it, or by one of the winos that frequent the benches that line it. I take it that when they refer to the "excellent" coffee shop, they must be talking about the prefab that doubles up as a public urinal when the shutters are down. If this is Dublin's greatest "success story" then where the fuck does that leave Dublin?
If you're allergic to nature walks, Government buildings make you feel angry and the idea of starting a Family tree makes you want to scratch your eyes out, then don't forget about option number 10. " Go to the sea."
Whether or not thats to drown yourself remains unseen.
My favourite had to be this.
Number 7:
"The Boardwalk: I have to say that when I heard they were going to build the Boardwalk I thought they were daft. Humble pie. Eat. It's one of the best things to happen to Dublin in years. For one thing, it's on the sunny side of the Liffey, for another, it's living proof of global warming - if anyone had suggested to a Dubliner in the rainy 1960s that one day people would sit outside drinking coffee in Dublin they'd have been laughed out of town.
So, particularly in summer, grab a good book and settle down to a cup of Cruises Coffee Co's excellent coffee and just chill out and take in the surroundings. People watch, stroll up and down, listen to others' conversations, study the architecture of the city's quays and, from late 2005, watch the new river taxis as they glide past you. It's been such a success story that they're currently extending the Boardwalk east of O'Connell Bridge."
The only possible explanation for this outrageous review is that it was either written by the people who designed it, or by one of the winos that frequent the benches that line it. I take it that when they refer to the "excellent" coffee shop, they must be talking about the prefab that doubles up as a public urinal when the shutters are down. If this is Dublin's greatest "success story" then where the fuck does that leave Dublin?
If you're allergic to nature walks, Government buildings make you feel angry and the idea of starting a Family tree makes you want to scratch your eyes out, then don't forget about option number 10. " Go to the sea."
Whether or not thats to drown yourself remains unseen.
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