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.

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.

U.C.I.I.C.U.

Today started the way most of my Sunday's start-dry heaving over a toilet bowl. Its a terrible fact to realise that not only have my hangovers turned into violent assaults on my nervous system, but that I seem to have accepted my own fate. The shakes, the churns, the potential hemorrhage type headache and the momentary blindness are familiar friends at this stage, generally sent away only after 2 bottles of Lucozade and 5 packets of crisps. I can do hangovers in my sleep at this stage-vomiting and texting simultaneously while frying eggs and grilling sausages. I pulled myself together and headed to work where I spent a delightful day in the square. (don't ask)
Its really hard to explain what the Square is like to someone who hasn't been-think rainbows to the blind. The shopping centre itself is a bit of a navigational nightmare. I think theres meant to be three levels, but as you stand near one of the 37 escalators you'd be more inclined to think eight. Split level was clearly the way to go back in the 90's. Strolling past the array of bakeries, eurolands and hot pants you find yourself in U.C.I. Ireland's most annoying cinema. I've yet to go to a film here that hasn't been attended by at least 20 unaccompanied minors. The funniest encounters of which have seen me witness a full blown telephone conversation between two people sitting in rows next to each other, a woman with a crying baby (I'm patient-but 30 fucking minutes is outrageous) and a full blown game of chasing down the aisles and across the screen. Sitting down for the duration of a film in U.C.I. is completely optional. I think the most bizarre thing I ever saw was an attendant asking a nurse would they mind bringing the person they were looking after in the wheelchair outside because they were making weird noises and disturbing people.(God forbid they would interrupt the dry riding session in row F)

Today found me in a much more temperate mood watching "The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas" I wont offer a critique except to say it was better than the book and you'd have to be a pretty heartless fuck not to feel something after watching it. During a pivotal scene I heard this:

Child: whats a Jew?
Older child: Someone who doesn't believe in Holy God.

As the film credits rolled I turned to leave and saw a boyfriend cradling his sobbing girlfriend as she cried loudly and rocked back and forth.