Re-start

After much drunken discussion at the recent Horslips gig (which was fucking deadly, review to follow from someone else) I am kick starting the blog. As I have nothing, or more correctly can't choose, what to give out about, I am going to link to a good video.

Dropping a Nipper

I have since heard they are thinking about banning this ritual so I am off to India for the next one before they stop it. I wonder does anyone open a book on high they bounce?

The defenition of oleaginous...

Shows a picture of Gerry Ryan. The fat unctuous prick annoys me no end and for a long time I have said (ranted and raged really) that one reason I really hate having to pay a license fee is because some of that money goes into that foetid fucks pocket.

Now it appears RTE agree with me.

Sack the Fucker

I sincerely hope he doesn't take a pay cut because then they will be forced to sack him. If they don't I am not paying my license next time and I will see them all in court.

Also that skinny, no talent fucker Tubridy. Oh I have a special type of hatred for him. When I start feeling good about the world or catch myself whistling a happy tune, I just turn the radio or TV to his show and I can just feel the vitriol coursing through my body, just like Christophe Lambert in "Highlander". The smarmy little shit (Tubridy not Lambert, there can be only one) said initially he couldn't take a pay cut because of "legal reasons" but suddenly the other day these legal reasons disappeared. Gerry Ryan probably ate them.

Interesting Times

I came across a few interesting stories in the Irish Times this week. The first is about banks, but not how fucked they are financially. No it is about how they are fucked up in ways they might (or might not) give out mortgages.

Watch what you do online

This is a load of bollocks. If someone has some spare cash they are entitled to do what they want with it once they have enough to cover their mortgage. What not ask if someone has an expensive hobby, drinks a lot at the weekend or likes to snort back street cocaine. My spare cash is my spare cash so fuck off and don't tell me what I can spend it on. I remember when I was applying for my mortgage, my broker asked me if I smoked. When I said I did he tsked. I asked him would it affect my life insurance and he said no, that it was more a case of the cost and what effect it would have on my disposable income. Fuck right off you chancing fuckers. If you had been as circumspect about who you gave out billion euro loans to then maybe you wouldn't be crawling to the government now looking for handouts from them. Remember they get they money to bail you out from the taxes paid by the poor saps who enjoy themselves by logging on for a few hands of Texas Hold 'Em (as I am doing now as I write this).

The next story is a similar case of a financial institution against the little (or not so in this case) person. In this instance I am firmly in the camp of the Insurance Company.

Fat Bint Crys Foul

Now if you go for Life Assurance you have to be medically certified. Your policy would be loaded if you had diabetes, if you smoked, if you had some genetic disease or even if you had a family history of certain illnesses (heart problems and so on). Now obesity is not hereditary, nor is it a disease. You just can't stop stuffing your face with pies. "Oh no I have a glandular problem". No you fucking don't, unless the glands in question are baked in a far too rich and fatty sauce (mmmm sweetmeats). If you are obese your life expectancy is reduced and you are also prone to other ailments such as adult onset diabetes, heart disease and chronic whining that it is all someone else's fault.

I smoke and I know it is not good for me and I know it impacts on me in such instances as above. So if you fancy your cakes and coke (diet of course) then be prepared to cough up when paying your assurance premium and stop acting like a fucking victim.

The Powers of Observation

I have just read this in today's Irish Times. I don't know whether to laugh or cry at the sheer stupidity and incompetence it shows. You would think someone would have copped onto it a lot sooner.

Paddywhackery

Hmmmm..

How come my post appeared below Paul's even though I posted it after his? Must have been a negative reality inversion. A prize for anyone who knows the reference without being a cheating fucker and googling it.

try - athlon

check it out lads. I signed up for this sprint triathlon thing this year.
http://www.fingalsprint.3dtri.com/

750m swim, 20k bike, 5k run. Looking forward to it now but I cant swim for shit. Lessons start wed night.

And another thing. Why cant you get a comfy saddle on a bike these days? I've only been out on mine about 3 times and any distance longer than 15k means I have to stand up on the bike to let the blood flow back towards my nuggets!

A Few Truths.

Over the course of a few days, I made a few observations along the lines of 'everyone remembers a day when a dog wandered into your school' and I've decided to share.

1) The War Against the Skulls is an international affair and applies to public transport workers the world over. They are among the world's fucking rudest and most unhelpful people and should all be sacked oweh their jobs. Robot buses and trains are the future - long live Skynet!


Oooooh I 'ate you everybody!

2) The condensation that forms on crowded train windows is made of breath and filth and under no circumstances should you get it on white shirts.

3) People who deliberately drive their cars through puddles to splash innocent pedestrians, are UTTER cunts and should be shot with balls of their own shite. I particularly hate looking like a wanker while trying to scramble out of the way in time.

4) People with short legs should never sit down on public transport - anywhere, for that matter - as you look really fucking stupid if your legs don't touch the ground. Especially if you insist on swinging them back and forth.


Load of bollox, short legs are.

5) Coffee always tastes better outside and tabs rock - I'm holding out for a cure. That's two points in one but as tabs and coffee go together, I'm making it one.

6) Marc was probably right - mark those words mate - and Radiohead may be one of the greatest bands of the modern era. Fake Plastic Trees is a classic.

7) These annoying lists are usually written by smart-arsed, smug, uppity little fuckers of cub reporters in weekend supplement magazines out to make a name for themselves with their oh-so-fucking-cleverness. So I'll stop.

A Happy Birthday to Colum!

Congratulations mate! The first of us to reach forty!



Feel old? I know I fucking do! One step closer, the grave.............

The Unending Battle versus Cats

As I might have mentioned before I have a problem with neighbourhood cats seemingly congregating in my flowerbeds for the purposes of defecation. Why in fucks name the cannot shit in their own gardens I do not know, but I am forever having to dig crap out of mine.

So I have for a while been trying various methods of dissuading them (I was persuaded not to use a pellet gun) with differing degrees of success. Coffee grounds and orange peel seemed to work alright, although both have to be refreshed regularly to keep the pungency that the buggers don't like to the max. Also jeyes fluid around the borders seemed to work well for a while. But any remedy only seemed to work for a short period of time. Cats seem to be like bacteria in that regard. They build up immunity.

Watching Braveheart I got me an idea which so far seems to be the best of all. Spears, lots of them. I bought a load of bamboo canes, cut them into six inch lengths and staked out the beds like some bronze age earthen defence works. And it seems to be working. With little room between each stake I reckon the cats find it hard to get a comfortable spot and move on. The can;t bury the shit like they want to and if they shit at all they just leave it on the surface which means no nasty surprises when gardening and also I can remove it quickly so the spot doesn't become their regular (which they seem to do).

Plus the idea of getting one up on the feline fucks makes me feel happy inside. I am a crazy man.

No TV

I came home from work last night and while I was having my food, I sat down to watch an episode of "House". The screen kept jumping, freezing and the soundtrack kept skipping, just like a pirated or dirty (as in smudged) DVD. I tried a few other channels and things seemed ok. I though nothing of it, must have been the recent weather, although the worst of the wind was last weekend and it was fine after that. I then left TV for a bit to piss about on the computer, playing some online poker (took some bad beats but still up overall) and checking out Twenty's revitalised blog. Before I went to bed I switched off the TV which still seemed ok.

This morning I came downstairs, made some coffee and toast and switched on the box. No satellite signal. Bit strange but ties in with last night. Tried a few things, changed and reset factory settings, switched it off and on again (always first port of call) checked all scart, phone and dish connections. No joy. Then I rang the folks at Sky and then he went through a few other technical checks and resets and still nothing. So now I have to wait for one of their engineers to come out to check the dish. I could get a ladder and have a look myself but I don't want to end up like Rod Hull. So now I am left with no TV until I don't know when.

The thing is this does not upset me like I thought it would. The only thing I might miss that would in anyway piss me off is the rugby at the weekend and I could always go out for that. I have a box set of the The Wire (Season 4) to make my way through plus the aforementioned online gambling. I have a pile of books by my bed and an itunes menu of songs that I need to revisit.

Do I really need the TV. Should I cancel my Sky subscription. This is something I think is well worth considering over the coming days.

Christmas Entertainment roundup

Back in work this week after a two week break, which seemed a lot longer than it actually was. Our Christmas break was comprised of long stretches of indolence, punctuated by short busts of intense activity, with excessive amounts of eating in between.  A very restful, rejuvenating, enjoyable break.

In between all the scrabble, ice-skating, small amounts of hiking and eating, we also found the time to see several movies, including:

• Slumdog Millionaire: Transcendent, fantastic.
  
• Vicky Cristina Barcelona: Also fantastic
• Marley and Me: Ehm..Ok for a Christmas puppy movie.  This was cut mercifully short by Conor bolting to the theater bathroom to throw up, not because of the saccharine content of the movie - stomach bug
• The Tale of Despereaux: Insanely complicated for an animated film, but very beautiful to look at
• Quantum of Solace: A third rate Bourne knockoff, a major disappointment after Casino Royale, also had the weakest, most boring, least threatening Bond villain in the history of the franchise -  Was Pee-Wee Herman unavailable? 

Played plenty of video games, all Xbox360:

• Prince Of Persia: The best game I played this year, I absolutely loved it.  Beautiful art, fun, deceptively simple gameplay.  Definitely surprised me.  Only drawback was that Conor won't let me have a turn and he is way better at it than me (a topic worthy of it's own post some time is how depressing it is to play video games against a 10 year old..no activity is more certain to confirm that you are on the downward slope of the curve and that entropy is taking hold)
• Assassin's Creed: Took me a long time to get round to this one, but it was worth the wait.  What a gorgeous looking game, which holds up admirably despite being over a year old.  There are small problems with it; The combat is less stealthy and interesting than the title and subject matter might lead you to believe and the sci-fi story angle feels unnecessary and slows the action down a lot. Still, love this one.
  
• Call Of Duty World At War:  This also took a while to warm up to. I like COD4 a lot, but COD-WaW initially felt a bit...samey.  It is the same old thing as COD4, set in the late stages of the Allied campaign in WWII, a series of battles and missions strung together by little story vignettes.  Once I got into it though, the tactile authenticity of the terrain and the hardware really started to add up to something:  COD4 is all ultra-modern, night-vision goggles and laser guided warfare, World At War has more grit and rust, a bit more bolt-action and bayonets.  The look and feel reminds me of the Commando comics my Granddad used to buy me when I was a kid:
  

Needless to say, the multiplayer is great.  We had a Stephens' Day tournament on Xbox Live, where Marie played against Christine.  It was a bit like watching two blind people in a maze, trying to kill each other with  pick-axes (see pic below):

• Fallout 3: I really wanted to love this game and was excited about playing it, but haven't been able to get into it yet.  So many people have recommended it to me, but I just haven't been that charmed by it.  I like the open world and the game looks great, but I think I have a deep seated loathing for games where you interact with characters by picking your response from a multiple choice list, grrr.  Still, I have barely scratched the surface on FO3 and plan to give it a chance.

Also got some great books, but maybe later for those..