No ties to bind me, no reasons to remain

There are moments in your life where you make realisations. Moments of clarity that can only occur when you've worn yourself out. When your brain feels like it might fall out. The feeling you get when you think you can't go on, when you remember you haven't drank water for two days straight and have stopped washing yourself. Everybody should have one of these moments. Mine happened this weekend.

It occured in the end scene of the week. About half twelve on Sunday night/monday morning. We'd just dropped off what had to have been the 4hundredth car load of stuff to the new house and were in the middle of some creative waste managment problem solving. I looked into the boot of the car and it hit me. I own a ridiculous amount of complete and utter shit. Not just one or two bags of junk, but boxes and boxes and boxes of total and utter garbage.

The migration in question being the move from my first ever house of rented accomodation to the second of such houses. The latter being closer to town and less residential. From here on in it will be known as "The Move" to all who witnessed it. And I hope to fuck its the last.

As I began to unpack things from boxes I hadn't bothered even looking in since last November, I stumbled across a treasure trove of memories...that I could no longer remember. Stacks of bus tickets from journeys I have no recollection of being on, beer mats of drinks I don't drink, empty cigarette boxes and nagan bottle tops from nights that have all blurred into one. Somewhere at some point, in the 'Are you there God, its me Margaret' portion of my brain, I felt I should hold onto these. Mementos of a day well spent is what I was probably thinking. What I'm thinking now what the fuck was I thinking then?

But, amongst the coal there were diamonds, and between the cinema stubs, the 10 year old Ms. Selfridge receipts and the sea of clothes I found something I'm glad I kept. The newspaper that my mother kept for me, from the day I was born.

Pot throws bucket of black paint over kettle

"Everybody reaches a point in their life when they have to say to themselves 'ok... Time to reign myself in'."

-My Bank manager to me.

My kids need wine

Have you ever started to drink a bottle of wine and cringed at the first sip? You battle through the first glass cursing yourself for not spending two euro more for something that was at least drinkable. A sour feeling coats your teeth and tongue, your stomach lurches, your oesophagus heaves. You persist. Halfway through the bottle you feel warm and reassured. That money you saved will go towards an extra drink at the bar, you think smugly. By the end of the bottle your friend asks for a sip, takes it into her mouth and promptly spits it out.

"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST. That wine is corked."




No? Me neither.

Halloweeeeeeeeeeeen

A: What are you dressing up as?
B: A nun.
A: Hmmm
B: No, its cool, I have fishnets and heels and suspenders and...

Even the most mundane of uniforms suddenly becomes transformed with a simple pre-fix; sexy builder, sexy nurse, sexy silage maker, sexy butcher, sexy mortician... The only time of year when girls can openly clap their flaps without being branded a slut. I say wear hot pants and a leather bra to work whenever you fancy and actually come up with something creative on Halloween.

They set a new record up in Crumlin this year. There were 4 different bonfires happening on the same green at the same time. OUr neighbours threw such a spectacular fireworks show I felt like I was at the Olympics.

You wouldn't get that kind of recession beating spirit in Malahide.

Really Truthful Enterteinment

It appears David Coffey, creator of Irish satire (really?) "Dan and Becs," is lending his hand to a new RTE comedy "Sharon and Steve." It operates under the same principles as Dan and Becs, but this time instead of south Dublin yuppies, we're being treated to a fly on the wall mockumentary of two working class people from Tallaght. In an interview Coffey stated that he had more than a little in common with the annoyingly pretentious Dan, making him quite an easy character to play and write for. How then is he going to be able to pen a realistic script set in Tallaght?
Realising the potential issues that may arise from such a dilemma (i.e. having to write from a perspective thats not your own) he set about finding people who knew more about working class life than himself.

Coffee hopped on a 77 to round up two suitable knackers to help him with his script. Charlene Gleeson who plays Sharon points points out the complexities of the character of Sharon "she loves Tallaght, all her friends love Tallaght, she works in Tallaght, she goes out in Tallaght." I have to say I breathed a sigh of relief when I realised that Charlene and Emmet Kirwan (who plays Steve) are both actually originally from Tallaght. Theres no way you'd want someone from outside Dublin 24 trying to tackle roles like this.

This show promises more laughs than "Dan and Becs" although according to Coffee it wont be as satirical. I'm assuming this is because working class people are more fun to laugh at, and theres no way a towny would get satire.

Make 400+ per week! Do not delay! Contact today!

Have you ever seen an ad offering you a way to subsidise your income, clear your debts, or even earn enough to retire yourself and your entire family in 5 years? Well I see them. All the time. I see the colourful A6 pages that are tacked to post office walls and Spar notice boards. I see the mobile phone numbers and a vague description of a "work from home" position. I see the euro signs in my eyes, debts being cleared, long holidays and champagne on Tuesdays.I see the potential for something great.
This lust for easy money has led me down many a stray street-the most tragic of which saw me selling scratchcards in the rain, a run-in with Kleeneze catalogue and being a mystery shopper. The most successful of all (although least financially rewarding) was my brief fling with hotelsbycity.net. The idea was simple. Pick a European City, write about it, get paid money. Well the first two happened. I was under the impression that I was hand selected to write these reviews. Plucked from obscurity, chosen to offer an insight into Dublin for tourists and natives alike. It was only when I received my user name "dublinblogger1" and then later when "dublinblogger2" came on the scene that I realised it was free game to anyone who saw the ad. He appears to be still going strong-the lucky bastard probably knows how adware works. But still, I tried. You can see my efforts here, here and here
I may not have made any money, but its comments like this that make it all worthwhile:


Barry Says: July 10th, 2008 at 9:02 am

I had one of thge worst experiences I ever had at Copperhead Jack.Myself and my partner weer resident at the Jackson Court Hotel,where free entrance to the night club was offered.We had been a a gig and on returning to hotel thought we'd pop into Copperhead Jack's for a night cap.
Over zealous bouncer told us we were too drunk and would allow us access,we did of course have a free drinks but we were neither rowdy or obviously drunk.We are respectable mid aged professionals and did'nt not fit into any profile which might raise concern.The more we pressed out case the more obstrictive and aggressive the bouncers became.We could not believe what was happening,we had never been refused entry to any club before.
Perhaps this was an ageist response or indeed because we both have northern accents.

How to Lose friends and Alienate people

Make them sit through an hour of this piece of shite.*

I’m definitely not an expert on book to film transitions, but I did think that it was common knowledge that some adaptations had to be made. If your story took place in a different decade, either set the film in that time period or update the fucking script. News flash: mobile phones are no longer a novelty. Extended scenes of people texting eachother and everyone producing a phone from their pocket at the same time hasn’t raised a laugh since 1995. Everyone has a phone now-we get it, you’re not making any ground breaking social commentary.
Theres a moment where the protaginist drives through the streets of New York- windows rolled down, wide eyed grin, exaggerated head turn for reaction (cue people ignoring him so they can send texts on their brand new ultra cool accessory-the phone) Its carried out with the eagerness and excitement of someone who’s just pulled into shore on a famine ship.

Ultimately-I just cannot get my head around the popularity of Simon Pegg. Like the legions of people who love Anchorman, I'm left cold. I cannot believe this came from the same womb as Curb your Enthusiasm.


* which subsequently is all I actually managed to sit through. (The last film I left before the credits rolled was "American Pie: The Wedding.")