Jun
24th
Wed
24th
Jun
3rd
Wed
3rd
Male Pattern Baldness
I’m sure my large readership (Hi Mom) has been adversely affected by my lack of posts recently. I assure you that I am ok, but have been busy searching the world for a cure for male pattern baldness. Progress is slow…
This will all change towards the end of July, when (hair or no hair) I will have more time to discuss lots of interesting subjects* with you all. Until then, do something else with yourselves.
* You do want to hear my (rant-filled) thoughts on sowing and hand dryers, riiiight?
Apr
6th
Mon
6th
Ex-squeeze me? A-baking powder?
I work in Ireland’s version of Ground Zero (otherwise known as the IFSC). The reason I call it this is because it is currently in the grips of the Irish building mentality of digging a hole to fill a hole, which in turn, gives everyone who works there a giant pain in theirs. As a result, a couple of hundred metres of Luas tracks is taking an inordinate amount of time. On the hair timeline scale, I was practically sporting a 70’s porn star doo when they started. Now I am firmly in Jean Luc Piccard territory. Disheartening stuff indeed.
Recently though this never ending inconvenience was offset ever so slightly by the addition of a piece of equipment with quite possibly the best name ever. Ladies and gentlemen, I present the “Schwing S39SX”.
And better yet, it’s a fucking crane! Below is the Schwing in full, er, swing!
Ok bear with me here, I’m highly excited at the thoughts of trying to offload everything phallus related. Let me schwing into action (and we’re off!).
What happens when it’s brought to the garage due to the crane not working, is the owner embarrassed, saying “This is the first time this has ever happened to me - just give me a few minutes and I’ll try it again”.
Oh wait, here’s another one. What’s the difference between a Schwing S39SX and a giraffe? One has hydraulics and the other has a high bollix!
Yeeeessssss, I can’t handle it anyone more, ah, ah, ah.
And I’m done.
Mar
9th
Mon
9th
Invaders Must Die
The Prodigy-ical son has returned from the wilderness (or Essex), and with a rather good album to boot. Let us kill the fat (sorry, big boned) calf and raveth like its 1992. Now where did I leave that glow stick.
Feb
27th
Fri
27th
Talbot Street, and Anne Frank!
As I was walking up Talbot Street in my half asleep state this morning, I spotted a pig staring out the window (for scumbags with an unexplainable hatred of An Garda Siochana, insert pig-related joke here. Happy? Now fuck off!). Quite aware of my hallucinations and how they mock me, I almost left it at that. What made this pig unique, however, is that he was directly above his greatest of enemies, the butcher!
Staring at him there, imprisoned in such close proximity to the place in which his very own kind is slaughtered on a daily basis, I couldn’t help but to draw comparisons with Anne Frank. But would the comparisons end there I wondered, now really loosing the plot. Perhaps this pig is penning a diary too, committing to paper (and history) the hardships faced on a daily basis. What would this diary read like, I thought? Below is the excerpt that materialised in my mind.
Monday:”Lived in my own filth”
Tuesday: “Lived in my own filth. Looked out the window for a while”
Wednesday: “Lived in my own filth”
Thursday: “Lived in my own filth”
Friday: “Lived in my own filth. Looked out the window for a while. Had my picture taken by a ugly balding man”.
And that is where the comparisons with Anne Frank ended. Stupid brain! How dare it mock me.
Pol Pot - an equal opportunities employer?
Having read this story recently, I was struck by the term “Chief Torturer”. How exactly does one become a chief torturer? Do you start off as an apprentice, like the tea boy in an office? “I used to just boil the water used for scalding, but then I moved onto sharpening knives. Before you could say severance pay I was washing blood off the walls. They were the good ‘ol days.” Is there performance appraisal? “Mr. X, your car battery to testicle ratio is through the roof, but we need more water torture! Get on it, otherwise your Christmas party won’t be subsidised.”
What I found interesting about the story was the fact the he is now a born again Christian. Oh, that’s ok so! It’s an improvement from being the anti-Christ I suppose.
Feb
6th
Fri
6th
Video Friday Bitches!
Well, quite! Obscene title aside, below are some great videos, which are close of my heart for a whole host of reasons, summarised as follows:
- I like hip-hop
- I like funny hip-hop
- I like Chris Rock
- I like to dance
And with that in mind, enjoy!
Feb
5th
Thu
5th
Pain in my face!
Hearing bad news from the man is always, well, bad! What takes the biscuit, however, is when this bad news is appended by “we would like to apologise for any inconvenience this may cause”. Have you ever listened to what came before this fucking ridiculous phrase and not been inconvenienced by it? Me neither.
Announcement “your head will explode in 30 seconds. We would like to apologise for any inconvenience this may cause”. Hmm, am I inconvenienced here? The fact I’m able to process this potentially inconvenient information is because I have a brain. Don’t know about you but my brain is stored in my head, for at least another 30 seconds anyway. Not meaning to jump the gun, but I’m feeling a bit inconvenienced here and let me tell you …
The real phrase should be “We’re not really sorry at all for the inconvenience this is bound to cause you because if we were, I’m sure we could have prevented it from happening in the first place. The reason we need to feign concern is something to do with customer service, which doesn’t really exist in Ireland anyway. With this in mind, stick it up your hole and suck it up!”
I hope you enjoyed this little rant. If not, apologies for any inconvenience this may have caused!
