Monday, April 07, 2008

Micko Goes Wine-Shopping

Micko and Janet had been married five years. Micko thought that it would be nice to have Maria, their two-year-old daughter, spend the night in the babysitter's house and have a dinner party with their friends. For the duration of the week preceding the day, the seventeenth of August, Micko was making the preparations such as asking Philo & Bridie, Baz & Liz and his brother, Jimmy, over for the dinner. He did some secret shopping and bought a lovely piece of lamb with helpful instruction from the butcher.

The morning of their anniversary, Micko woke up before Janet and made her toast and tea and brought in to her in bed.
"Happy anniversary," said Micko.
"Ah, Jay! Tanks, Micko. Happy anniversary."
Janet was delighted as Micko told her of the evening that he had planned.

They cleaned up the dining-room and the living-room for their guests and put on the lamb. Remembering the tips from the butcher, Micko put the meat in on a low heat early in the afternoon. They both had a nice afternoon together as they prepared the vegetables and tidied the house.

As the arranged time for the guests to arrive approached, Micko remembered the last thing that he had to do. He needed to nip down to the off-license for some wine.
"The veggies are almost done now. Baz and Liz'll be here in 'bout ten minutes. I'm goin' down offo to get some wine. Back in ten," said Micko as he kissed Janet.

Micko was feeling in top form. He was having a pleasant day. He was happily married for five years to his darling wife. The dinner party was going to be great and Janet would be happy to see their friends and would be over the moon about it all. Yes, the day was good.

"Hmmm, what about this wine?" said Micko aloud as he drove to the local off-license in Finglas. He held the door open for an auld fella coming out with a six-pack of Bulmers under his arm. As he walked over to the vast wall of the wine section, he stared at the tapestry of bottles with their colourful labels and foreign words.
"Can I help you, sir?" came a voice from behind.
"Eh, yeah... I'm havin' a bi' of a do an' I'm lookin' for some wine," replied Micko.
"Well, this wine is on special this week. It comes from the smallest vineyard in all of Bordeaux and is made by the Montesemont family who have been producing well-respected wines since the early twentieth century. It is full-bodied, smooth at first with an mild aftertaste of elderberries."
Micko's head hurt. What was this young one on about?
"Eh, righ'. How much is it?"
"This week it's €14.99 which is amazing value for such a wine."
A perplexed look appeared across Micko's face.
"That's a bit much innit?"
Suddenly the off license staff member realised what she was dealing with and sighed.
"Well, on the other hand, on your left is a cheap muck that we import from Slovakia. It's made by child slave labour and that's why it's only €3.99. It's complete piss but comes with a complimentary roll of Polo mints,"she sorrowfully continued.
"Hmmm, yeah alright'. I'll have four bottles of tha'. Tanks."
"I'm here to help," she said as she hung her head.

Micko bought the wine and a six pack of Dutch Gold and drove home. Baz & Liz had arrived and were in the living-room saying how deadly everything looked. Philo & Bridie arrived ten minutes later and Jimmie, and usual, was a little late. The dinner went perfectly and the conversation was overflowing. They all got locked on the cheap piss and thought it was wonderful.

Baz & Liz fell asleep on the couch at half-two. Jimmie went home because he only lived on the next road. Philo & Bridie ended up under the kitchen table while Micko and Janet went to bed sloshed and happily five years married.

Wednesday, April 02, 2008

Bits Agus Bobs Agus Mickí

Why Men Don't Listen and Women Can't Read Maps: How We're Different and What to Do About It (Paperback). Paperback form it was and I thought that it was important to mention that it is. Read it there last night and the night before. Interesting read. Fair play to the sexes for being different and bollix to political correctness.

PR-STV is great craic, isn't it? I haven't really used it yet but for the laugh it'll be grand.

Off goes Bertie today telling everybody he's going for real in May. First Tony across the water, then the "Rev." "Dr." Ian across the border and now Mr. Tee-shock down here sa phoblacht. Is there no political stability in the place
? Everyone is either too bored, too old or too weighed down to continue yielding supreme executive power. The office in the State with the most prestige will be filled by bluh-blah-blah-blah. Sorry Taoiseach, what was that about pensions?

Moonlight and love songs in ragtime! Step into that small confessional.

There's the lads as they kick it back in Bruges (Brew-guh or Brew-je [as in Je in French], whatever your having yourself) after killing people.

Fuckin' ledge auld film for the laugh and the Dubs factor. Rufus makes a guest appearance as a midget dancing on Abbey Street while doing cocaine. Colin Farrell then karate chops him and gets sang at about the impending race-war. "Who's next?" as Ton Lehrer might say.

Coffee may now be on the cards. Maxwell House, of course, is shit and should be avoided at all costs unless you're a fire(wo)man or in the Defense Forces. The Red is MUCK and the blue one isn't much better. Nescafé is good most of the time, depending on the jar that's bought. There's the chunky granules and they're nice (with water, obviously). That other Nescafé stuff, smooth and silky or some such shite, is nice too. Mmmm, instant coffee.

Goodnight, ladies etc.

Thursday, March 20, 2008

Go on, indulge a little

My, my, it's almost three weeks since I put even a word on this dreadful thing. I must rectify the situation. This is me currently rectifying the situation. As usual, I have nothing to say and it doesn't feel too good.

But I can say that passion fruit is great. Even the smell is divine. Have one as soon as you can. Sit in the sun, smell it and then eat it. It'll give you an oddly summer feeling and it'll be nice for a second. Which is a hard thing to do these days, I'd imagine. With all the fuss, anxiety, stress and bother of general living, nobody gets to have a simple pleasure. Although, it's very easy to just buy some nice chocolate and go for a stroll to ease up. Nothing beats the Cock (Tavern) of a Thursday or Sunday night either for a wind-down. Buy the paper and a Zumo smoothie or juice and sit in a park somewhere (St. Stephen's Green for example) and have a read at one's leisure. Have a nice big cup of coffee at home with a favourite CD playing. I don't know what this is; is it a list of ways to relax from me? Just came out.



Tonight I watched many videos on youtube (videos with music not of some 14-year-old from Wisconsin jumping from a moving truck or similarly stupid videos that one so easily finds) of Rory, EC, Leadbelly and others. It was grand craic altogether.

I was in college today for the first time in about two weeks. There's an essay due next Tuesday for CM135 Analysing Media Content. It's about image analysis, both semiotic and ideological. Sounds mickey and, to me, it is. It's not what I''m about at all. But, in all fairness, is any of the stuff I'm doing "me"?

Last semester I enjoyed most things, especially the Language, Culture and International Communication lectures. Identity and Belonging threw some values up in the air for me, fine, that needed doing. This semester, I picked some modules I don't like and/or are making little sense. Introduction to Intercultural Studies is an example of the latter. I don't particularly like the aforementioned Analysing Media Content. Looking for implied value systems within a picture/image/photograph/digital representation? That's not the sort of thing that I like!

Introduction to Modern Ireland is a module about Irish politics. When I picked that module, I didn't even look at the bloody outline or the code. If I did, I would've seen LG (Law and Government) on it and thought, euh! Maybe. It's full of Erasmus students that are from far-flung places and not so far-flung (towns mythologies) places. The essay for this will be very hard.

Understanding Social Change is a good module. Dr. O'Brien missed two classes and not many people seem to like him. I think he's grand, but that an elephant (pardon the poor use of Groucho Marx quote thing). Like all the essays for all modules, picking something to research and write about is the difficult things. Do about Nordyland? Sunningdale and Good Friday? Dunno. The lectures that I liked was the Nordyland one because it was just like a history lesson and I liked that. Another lecture in Introduction to Modern Ireland was like a history lesson too and I also liked that. Is there something in that? Should I be somewhere studying history instead of all this Contemporary Culture and Society business? Ah, questions galore it is.

Study of Language 2 is good like last semester. There's going to be a test in class though, which I don't like the sound of. Most of all these worries stem from one thing. Obviously that one thing is the fact that I've done fuck all this semester. Waay. Intercultural Studies might make a little more sense if I read the suggested readings. Although, I did give it a bash and it went terribly. I was on the bus though.

This college bollix seems so mickey. And that made me sound like a sobbing little Yank wank. I'm not prepared to do any work so therefore it's someone else's fault. I presume that's a textbook case of not bothering one's bollix. It's great that the number of people going to third-level has tripled (I think that's right, it was in an The Irish Times article on Tuesday) and that fees are no more. But is college for everyone? Is DCU or UCD or TCD or NUI the right place for a slightly intelligent, slightly middle-class 18-year-old who can get over 300 points in the Leaving Certificate? Is there some pressure for sixth year students to go to college? (EDW.) I don't think academic life is for all even though it is accessible by all (supposedly).

I am sceptical of my own place in DCU sometimes. (Again, I'm probably a textbook example of some unsure, whiny teenager.) The essays due, the exams to be sat and other assignments to be done will take some doing on my part. It's even difficult to know to do them on, with no module exempt. If I was a really bad worrier, I'd be fucked because it can look impossible. I don't know if I'll pass these modules. Then get reading you say! Good idea. "Am I bovvered though?"

To leave on a nicer note than that I hope you all enjoyed St. Patrick's Day whatever you were up to. Isn't great to be born on the island of Ireland!?

Thursday, February 28, 2008

Draft Messages

There's a few messages in the drafts folder of my phone. If I think of something that's either funny or memorable, or just notable, I save it there for future reference. Well, that's the background information on this and now the real post will begin and the like. Please take your seats.

"In the total song of life, the dissonant, cacophonous elements have to be accepted, transcended and absorbed into the dominant melody."
This particular quote/sentence was brought to my attention by a nun, of all people. The ex-head nun at the home in New Jersey of my great-aunt (a nun) had it in her head that I was somewhat intelligent when we were NJ in 2004. She printed this out on a green page for me. It's of interest and a nice little thing to be able to recite during the hardships of tedious conversations.

Ooh! Sorry, I thought I had something musical there but it was only a headache.
I have little idea where that came from or anything. Silly.

Zip, zip, mick up yer cocky. Self-explanatory.

Don't mess with me. I'm a Jew.
I don't know if this would sound funnier if it read "I'm a Catholic." Or maybe Baptist...

"Tall women surround me now and a gentleman passing us by. Who did we meet? A pretty young Communist of all people! She wore red and cleaned tables with efficiency and 'y'alright?'"
Dave and I were in the Cock one evening. Obviously some young one stood up from the next table and looked reasonably tall. I had only listened to Black Velvet Band earlier that day, hence the next bit. Well done.

Memo to self: auld ones must like the Evening Herald in the early afternoon. Isn't revamp a stupid word?
I was on my way into a lecture recently (it was probably last Thursday) and I passed two auld ones coming onto Shanowen Avenue, each with a copy of (presumably) that day's Evening Herald. It was only about half one in the day. It was as if it was a microcosm of society. The sight just made an impression on me. Or was it that I wanted something to do as I waited for the little green man to tell me it was safe to cross the road?

John B. Keane You're on for Next Sunday.
Somehow a short story that we read during the junior cycle of education came into my mind today. Some fella was wandering about a graveyard and the spirits asked him to play a game of hurling with them. At the end they said he was on for the following week too. Was he dead? Oh, oh! I think it was written by Mr. Keane. I could be wrong. It's a guess at the title too. Something like that. All my classmates will probably remember this short story on prompting the memory. The dreaded Scano classes. Lord bless us and save us.

Saving things as text messages is a great way to record things on the go. Things to do or write about or read or look up. I have a list of books, films and songs there too. Life: A User's Guide is one one the list. Unfortunately, I haven't came across it of yet, even in Hodges Figgis. Shock!

The other day I was knocking around the DCU library after lectures and stumbled across the fiction fiction. Before that point in time, I was unaware of its existence. Non-academic books that I would actually want to read. I saw a few names and I thought, oooh, I want to read that. I took out my phone and saved a few authors' names, which includes Roddy Doyle (I want to read something written by him, possible The Snapper) and Flann O'Brien (there's a brand new edition of The Third Policeman there that cried out READ ME).


The daily functions of the mobile telephone extends further until it's part and parcel and mickey of all people, not that it's not a neccesary piece of equipment to survive already. Giz yer foe-win.

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

Dublin

"Fort of the Dane,
Garrison of the Saxon,
Augustan capital
Of a Gaelic nation"

-Louis MacNeice

I had a lovely day knocking around town the other day, Monday 11th February. Ma decided that she wanted to go up to the War Memorial Gardens , so off we went. It was a fine day with a warm sun that would remind any sober soul of a Summer's day. We got the bus into town and walked up the quays and into the gardens. They're great. Grand for a walk. There was a few people walking about in the good weather. And why not?



So, after a gander about the War Memorial Gardens, we went in the direction of the Wellington Monument up the Phoenix Park. I hadn't been at it since I was a young fella. We had a seat upon the steps of the 62m obelisk. The Spire is almost twice the height of it at 120m. I'd have never thought that by looking at it.



I had another sight worth seeing in mind. The Patrick Kavangh statue sits quietly and proudly on the bank of Dublin's Grand Canal. I was meant to pay a visit to Paddy last Summer but I never got around to it. So, fair play ot Kavanagh for sitting there perpetually, watching the ducks drift by (in twos and threes) and having to sit beside Antoinette Quinn's daughter as she waits for her boyfriend coming out of one of the nearby offices for lunch.



I hope you like my amazing photos. I took them with my phone. I'll put up another few tomorrow too from the Sony digital camera we have. Maybe I'll have another installment of photos of other places in Dublin that I've meant to go to for ages and never have. That might be nice. Anyway, must dash, I have a lecture in the morning at ten o'clock. Good luck to all involved.

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

Negligence

Poor blog, I haven't posted here for quite a while. It's been over two weeks now. Well, I haven't been doing much. I had things for college on the tenth and the eleventh of this month. The LG116 Introduction to Politics assignment was available from the ninth and had to be submitted the next day. The 3,000 word essay for LC110 Language, Culture and International Communication was due on the eleventh. I did shit on that one (not to mention LG116). I think I can expect about 20%. (For the chemistry LC mock exam I tried to predicted my result by using the spare time I had at the end, which was about an hour, to count up the things I got right. I predicted high forties. I got mid forties. Well done me. No worries though, chemistry was my best result for the real thing!) So, hopefully I'll pass these modules and all that.

After that, not much has been going on. I've been getting up late, eating breakfast, watching episodes of either Fawlty Towers or 'Allo 'Allo. I've then been doing a selection of things, many of which start with nothing and end with being in the pub.

Last Saturday night/Sunday morning (19th-20th Jan.) was of considerable interest. Clark (mah man) had dropped me a text asking if I'd fancy a drink that evening. Sure, no harm sez I. We met at about nine outside the Cock Tavern as usual. Unfortunately, it was rather full inside with nowhere to sit down. So, for a change, we tried the Lamb across the road. Clark had no ID and Mr. Doorman was having none of it. So, back to the Cock we went. Still no seats or anything. Out again. Somehow, I had a moment of inspiration and asked Clark had he ever been to the Lord Mayor's. From that decision came a good night. We had a few pints (Heineken) in the Mayor's until about twelve. Then, as arranged earlier, we went to get a 3-in-1 down the street. Oh, it was delish and utterly amazing. Chinese of that sort is made for the slightly drunk.

Again, on an impulse, we decide to head back to Clark's house. What a walk, what a 3-in-1! In the time spent there, we discovered the new combo drink of Jameson Irish whiskey and orange juice from Dunnes Stores (or wherever). Credit goes to Clark, but I did wholeheartedly agree on its lovely taste. I also found out that Eddie Vedder wrote the soundtrack for that film about the guy who went off and died after giving all his money away.

I started for home at about half four, maybe. I met some people along the way and had a chat. I did my good deed for the day (so early too) and made it home tired and satisfied (sounds a bit filthy). I fell asleep without bothering to take off my shirt. Oh what a rain that would be (have you realised that I use lots of brackets?).

Recently, don't ask me when, I saw the film I Am Legend in Movies @ Swords. What a shit name for a cinema. Bloody Dundrum heads too. Anyway, I went along with Lorna because she fancies William of the Smiths. I liked it. Nice and odd. If I was bothered (which I doubt I'll ever be) I should rent the other two films made about the book. I can't see that happening but I saw that film, one down two to go. Last night we watched Saw. It, again, was nice and odd. Recommended watching film. As I mentioned above, I've been watching the DVDs of TV comedy classics. I was given the Fawlty Towers box-set for Christmas. Nothing else needs to be said. Everyone just knows how deadly it is. "I speeka Eengalish. I lern eet from a buuck." 'Allo 'Allo is great too. Technically it was my Da that received the present of the first and second series on DVD but myself and my Ma have been indulging, working our way through the episodes.

I'm currently reading "Jude: Level 1" by Julian Gough. It's a comic novel about the poor orphan Jude and the messes he gets into trying find his true love. I'm enjoying it so far (page seventy-nine in brackets no comma required). There's capital letters everywhere and I can't help thinking that it's a code or I'm missing some great acronym, pun or something along those lines. Oh well, even if I am, it's very good.

I have lots of music to listen to too. I bought Look Alive, the DVD and CD thing that Incubus released recently. It's got live concert footage of songs from Light Grenades along with the odd oldies too, including Aqueous Transmission which I'm looking forward to looking at. The CD has lots of new songs which I believe are mostly written by Mike. La La La Zoom Zoom Zoom is interesting, I had a listen earlier. But, I'll listen to more tomorrow.

I suppose the greatest thing since sliced bread or the greatest thing of the month is the turmoil seen today on the stock markets. Sorry, wrong thing. I will soon be in Tromso, Norway. My Ma recently became mildly obsessed with the idea of seeing the aurora with her own two eyes. I, immediately, wasn't too pushed with the idea. I had this idea in my head that I'd like to see the phenomenon later in my own life. I had been saying that I'd like to see it for a year or two before all of this and I presume that was the idea I had, the later in life experience. But, nonetheless, I'll be going to Tromso, to see the city with the hope of witnessing the sight. It's not guaranteed, so I'm not building any hopes. I'm saying that we're going to Tromso instead of saying we're going to see the Northern Lights. We're (we being myself, my parents, Lorna and Catherine) off for three days and will be cold. We'll see how it goes.

It's almost two o'clock in the morning of Wednesday, the twenty-third of January 2008. Wow. For now, I'm glad I've put something here to fill some space. It's all worthwhile. Recently, I've been posting stuff on Bramblog for the laugh. I started off writing the Story of Ben meaning for it to be for Bramblog but it just got too long and didn't fit the criteria for the blog. It ended up on my other blog (Notebook) which is linked to in the left column.

I'm leaving you with the words of Einstein.
The hardest thing in the world to understand is the income tax.
Apparently I've to put Copyright: Kevin Harris 1995 so that I can put it here. S'all good. Fair play to all. Nighty now.

Thursday, January 03, 2008

Wake up & smell the cold coffee

It's a terrible thing. Last night I was in Dave's until about four, if I can recall events in even a mildly accurate manner. I got in, locked up and read for a while. I was reading The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar. It's one of his short stories that I enjoyed when I was younger and I wanted to read it again. It's aimed for the younger folk, but it's a grand story. It was about half five when I got under the covers for some kip. So off I dazed into that annoying thoughtland that prohibits me from actually sleeping. I was tired so I don't think it took that long to get through passport control from Thoughtland into Nodland.

My parents were going somewhere this morning and they came into my room, waking me up, and told me they were going out. They must have been going to the Pavloovians because they took some of my vouchers. I have no idea what time this happened at. Nevertheless, it didn't make me get up and about. The next thing I realise is my phone vibrating on the other side of my pillow. It was Dave calling me. The time? Twenty minutes past two.

Two and a half hours later it was dark. How crap. My day begins and soon it's dark. Not much of a day, you might say. I agree. What's equally as bad is that tomorrow will probably be no better. Well, unless I go to bed reasonably early tonight, which would be difficult. I doubt I'll be tired until at least three o'clock.

While I'm on this subject, have a look at the Yahoo image search for yawn. See if you notice anything.

Good luck now.

Monday, December 31, 2007

Great words

"The only man I shall take from the number, an whose name strangely stirs me now, is the brave, the gallant, the glorious and upright Éamonn Ceannt." (Father Augustine on Éamonn Ceannt)

"Yes. He was an angel - an angel. He was a fantastic, beautiful person. A wonderful human being. He was one of the most wonderful men I ever met in my life. I can say that honestly and openly. He was a gentleman as in the words gentle man, you know." (Mark Feltham on Rory Gallagher)

Sources

Supreme Sacrifice: The Story of Éamonn Ceannt 1881-1916, William Henry.

http://users.tkk.fi/~khagelbe/rory/articles/feltham5.html
An interview (September 13, 1998) with Mark Feltham, conducted by Shiv Cariappa. The interview appeared in the Rory fanzine Stagestruck, issue No. 5, edited by Dino McGartland.

Sunday, December 30, 2007

Hey mister, can you spare some time?

Come one, come all (into 1984) to view my notebook. I contains essay-like things, that are really nothing like essays but moderately long posts. Same person, same sort of style, same world view, same bat-channel (blogger, that is).

Do be clicking here.

The blog stared out as the failed "Master of Limericks" and has mutated into another place for me to type. "Yay" says all involved. "Fuck off and do something worthwhile" say all others. Thanks.

Saturday, December 29, 2007

Read This Book!

This is a fine book. Read it. Now.

Just pretending...

Lots.

Wednesday, December 26, 2007

An advertisement on the behalf of BramBlog

Come one, come all yeh (faithful) to The Chronocomsimplohyetocamstothermohygrobaranebramulator Chronicle, for the fun to be had by all of the family, including dirty ould aunts.

The sheer amazing qualities of the blog are aimed at absolutely everybody regardless of age, creed, mickey size, radio station preference, race, bra size, bank affiliations, style, level of Jewishness, D. Norris factors or any other identity marker that you may hold. Although, if you're a fascist, we may block you, just to prove a point, that being, can't you see, mickey, that radical politics is just testosterone-driven.

The Chono...ulator is a separate entity, it is neither Church nor State nor Mickey. It is the epiphany of the NGO craze, just like those silly girls with those shaggin' eskimo boots.

Thank you. Mickey. God bless and read BramBlog.

http://thebram.blogspot.com/

Monday, December 17, 2007

Plea for reverence

Dear Mass-going people,

I don't think I'm asking for much. When entering a church, attending Mass or otherwise, please turn off your mobile phone. I was at half-seven Mass this evening and I heard two phones with incoming calls with two silly ring tones.

If I have my phone with me, before I go into the church, I put it on "silent" and then I turn it off. I put it on silent just in case I've any alarms that could sound even if the phone is off.

I hope you agree that a certain amount of reverence is to be shown in a church, before the tabernacle. As it is a place of worship I wouldn't want to disturb others by having my phone start ringing. So, again, I ask, please turn off your phone before entering a church.

Yours sincerely,
Liam.

Saturday, December 15, 2007

The Cock Tavern

The licenced premises at the address of 31, Main Street Swords, Co. Dublin, has became the regular local for us, to a certain extent. We used to go a little more when Dave wasn't as bogged down having to go to Rathmines and Chatham Row most days of the week.

But, we were there on Thursdays night after the St. Finian's annual awards night. Mr. O'Shea was given Student of the Year, the school's highest and most prestigious award. Apart from a stupid bit of paper for being a prefect and for being involved in the production of the yearbook, I, along with Mr. G. Scott and MS. Y. Rahman were awarded with "Positive Contribution" award. So, whatever, at least they recognised that we're deadly! Ha. A €10 voucher for the Pavillions S.C. came with it, so, fair play.

Anyway, we went Cock afterwards. 'Twas myself, Dave, Lee-Anne and Maria. So, good times, just having a laugh and all. Unfortunately, the two girls live in Donabate and had to catch the bus home early. I'm not by any means saying that it's unfortunate that they live in Donabate, there's nothing wrong with the area at all, in fact, it's lovely. I mean to say that it was unfortunate that they had to go. I just want to have that clear, in case someone would get offended.

So, the girls head off and we had asked Clark to come down, so we stuck around. A while before Clark arrived, a woman asked could she sit at the table where myself and Dave were. Ah yeah, sure. So, as things happen, we started yapping away and soon the fella arrives too from the bar. They hadn't been let into Wright's and had come down to the Cock. I can't remember their names, but she was from Raheny and he was from Blackrock. They're now living in Lusk with their little baby, Suzanna, or something like that. They were very nice and all that. Yer man bought a round of drinks for us, so fair dues and fair play is due to him. This grand couple seemed, to me, to be in their late 20s maybe, which leads nicely into the next paragraph.

Some folk don't appreciate the Cock. A certain Mr. X, upon the mention of the Cock, referred to its clientele as middle-aged men watching the football. Mr. Y commented that he only ever saw scumbags coming out of it and also passed comment on the elder customers. I don't care who else is in a pub when I'm there with mates. I'm there to my friends, not the other people, regardless of what age they are. I suppose I can understand if you want to go out on the pull, but if you're just out with friends, it doesn't matter.

The grub in the Cock is great too. There's deadly combo plates with chips and chicken wings/chicken goujons and there's some other choice too. The steaks are good too. Good and filling. You'll get a good pint more importantly.

The ways of referring to The Cock Tavern are numerous. So, ya pullin' a Cock? Cockin' up your beaver? Stallin' it Cock? That's only a few that have come to mind, but you can imagine what come out with, ya know, being smart people.

So, fair play to the Cock.

Wednesday, December 12, 2007

Identity & Belonging

At this particular point in history, I'm almost finished the module named "Identity & Belonging." Awh. On this very night, I finished the assessment, which I outlined quickly in my post College Things Going On.

I worked with Claire for the first part, picking a topic and writing the questionnaire. We had some good discussions. All respect to her, Claire wrote the questionnaire. I then forgot about it for a while. I wrote up the report of working as a team with some posh words scattered in it. I'm happy enough with that, as far as one can be. Again, I conveniently forgot about it for another while. I was beginning to feel bogged down on Saturday last (through all the fault of my own) with the interview and essay left. On Sunday afternoon, I sussed out my interviewee and planned to meet that evening. So, I got that out of the way. I then spent an hour transcribing half of the interview. I did the other half the following night, Monday. It's been said that a start, even a shit start, is a start and it's important to just get something down and get into the writing frame of mind. I gave the essay a good bash that night too, with that in mind. I indeed got started and did about half, however rubbish it seemed.

Tuesday came with little desire to stir from bed. But, I had class at 10am in HG03. Vera showed us a video about Amish kids and the choice they have to make, to join the church or not. Anyway (that was relevant because it was I&B class), afterwards, I went to the library and got a computer downstairs immediately. Fantastic. I did a little more of the essay, using Moodle and lecture slides and other things. I thought I'd try to do essay for CM107, but I concentrated on HSS100. I had intended to, at least, start reading for CM107, but the lads went off to the cafeteria for grub and how can one resist a break from back-breaking labour?

After the last lecture of the day, I ventured back to the library to do the intended reading. I wanted to stay an hour. I met Greg and Kerrie just inside the gate. So, I wasn't going to be rude and not stop to say hello and unintentionally talk for about half an hour. I did get upstairs and I did read about four pages of "A Sociology of Ireland." I had to bring it back then (I had it out on a 24 hour loan since Monday evening) and thankfully I found another copy. I took the other copy out tonight, not that I've used it, but I will tomorrow morning (if my planned early rise works) and after LC150 class in the afternoon.

That last paragraph was a deviant one with nothing to do with I&B. Later yesterday evening (for it is now Wednesday) I began working, slaving on the essay at hand. I changed some things around, adding stuff, taking stuff away. So, it's in a finished state at this time. but, I may delete a particular paragraph, of no more than forty words. It's a little skimpy. I added in headings as a last minute edit. I'm sure if I'll keep them; I think I will. Now, all that's to be done is to print the cover page thing and all my work and present it to Dr. Sheridan on Thursday, during class I presume.

Thursday will be the last HSS100 class ever. I've enjoyed the module. It was the core module and it worth ten credits, where everything else is worth five. Its broad range of issues and the many disciplines used to look at them has made it deadly. The guest lecturers and their lectures (on immigration, trade unionism and multicultural Spain) also gave a little variety and their studies were relevant and interesting. So, fair play to HSS100 and so say all of us, probably.

Sunday, December 02, 2007

High aspirations

Ya know, I'd love to have something to type about right now...

Friday, November 30, 2007

Tendancy to get "mad ouv it"

What is it about us here in Ireland, in Britain too, and our love of the bottle? We're globally reknowned for the amount of alcohol we consume. I think we're forth in Europe for the amount we drink per head, or something like that.

A night out for the inhabitants of this island means getting sloshed, shit-faced, pissed, intoxicated, jarred, drunk, mad ouv it, inebriated, plastered, legless or wasted, depending on personal preference and/or dialect. I like sloshed, personally.

It's a concern. I was talking to a college colleage today about a possible night out for the class. The first thing I thought of was being drunk and how I'd get home, or in some shape or form, find a bed. I said something like, "just can't get too wasted, which is hard to do."

There's a humanities school Christmas party on in Temple Bar somewhere on Tuesday. It would be a miracle if there was one person there not sloshed with all the cheap drinks promotions going on. Now, I'm sure it'll be a great night if I get going, but I'm just making the point.

Is it inherent in us here to be drawn to the drink? Is it the culture? Is it to fit in? Or is it simply for the fun? I don't know. Just thinking around this subject. Good luck anyway.

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Musical Musings

My title sounds very smart doesn't it? I like it. I have no proper musical knowledge, but I surely love it, and although I have a personal attitude to music (I'm not sure what I mean there, or, rather, I don't know how to phrase it, I know how I feel), I just want to babble on about CDs by various artists that I want to purchase.

Mundy is great. Recently I bought "Raining Down Arrows," and I really like it. It takes a second listen, but the true-to-life lyrics will hit you. His voice is easy to listen to too. I must say, I'd name "Carpound" and "By Her Side" as the album's highlights. So, I must get some more Mundy, and I know he was in TempleBar in September, but, maybe get to a gig.

Rory. One word describes what I indulge in daily. A quick "Fuel to the Fire" here and a "Let Me In" there. "Lost At Sea" and "At the Bottom," both from "Against the Grain," are beautifully melancholy and get a lot of air time in my room. It's Rory's darker songs that I like more. For example, "Lonesome Highway" and "A Million Miles Away" (although, I'd imagine, any Rory fan adores my latter example). I'm going to pick up "Defender" next. Released in 1987 (I think), he returns to the Blues apparently.

Sarah Jane Morris is an artist I had never heard of before I met Simone Lisino. He stayed here with us for a few days not too many years ago, maybe two or three, I can't remember, it's late. Well, anyway, he had a celebrated selection of CDs that he brought away with him. I burned the music from these gold-mine CDs onto the pc. I left most of them alone for quite a while, but thankfully, I've listened to most of them. Stevie Ray Vaughan (how I first heard him and Double Trouble) was among them, as was Sarah Jane Morris. So, maybe I'll try to pick up some more SJM too. This is beginning to sound like a shopping spree list.

Finally, I'll end finish with Harry. Unfortunately, most of Nilsson's records were commercial flops and are difficult to get in high street record shops, HMV and the like. I might go to Rhythm Records, or easier yet, amazon.co.uk.

So, I'll stop here and end my wishful thinking. It'll probably be a few years until I get around to actually buying these things, but that's ok too. Aspirations to widen one's tastes and all that.

College things going on

Things come hard and fast these days. Well, in reality, they've been moving reasonably slowly for ages, but now near end of semester, they speed up.

I had a presentation on globalisation last week for CM107, Intro to Social Studies. So that's 30% dealt with. Oh no, wait, I still have to do the report, and post it up on Moodle. Ooops. Must get on to Amy again. The main body of marks for CM107 is for the 3,000 word essay to be done in a group of three. I'm with Andy and Neil (sorry Claire!) so, that's the organisation done. I'm going to have to choose a topic and get back to the lads. Gulp.

For LC110, Language, Culture and International Communication, it's much the same format. A presentation is due in two weeks for 30%, and then an essay, that one does by oneself, is also due to gain that last 70pc. This will be considerably more difficult.

HSS1oo, Identity and Belonging, is almost half done, with thanks due to Claire. A topic relating to identity, a questionnaire on the topic, a report on working with the other person, an interview based on questionnaire, a transcription of interview and finally, an essay linking ideas given in interview to theory learned in lectures and reading. Phew, sin é, at last. I have the first and second parts covered, with part three started this very evening. But then I fecked off to Eddie Rockets with Clark.

LC150, Intro to the Study of Language, is nice, I think. We got an assignment few weeks ago, which went well. Another one came last week, due for this Thursday. It wasn't as bad as I thought at first. But that question six is a bitch. I think I cracked half of it though. Hopefully it'll go nicely too. Morphology was nice enough, or what we did was ok, syntax was more difficult, but bearable up to a point, when it got difficult. Then came a mix of syntax and semantics, which was bit tricky, an introduction to real semantics, that seemed interesting at first, but is just hard-ish.

LG116, Intro to Politics, is the module that I'm not particularly happy with. The lecture is long, can be boring, I was frequently lost during early lectures (and still am) and I haven't a clue what the essay titles will be. All this collective action stuff isn't registering with me, "or what have you." But, I'm reading through some of the chapters of that big expensive book that we had to buy, "Power & Choice." I was reading on the bus last week, in and out from campus.

HSS102, Information and Study Skills, is going well... I've only missed one of these classes, so I'm moderately proud. They are on of a Friday evening at three. Bad scheduling. I've been keeping my reflective journal, making entries reasonably regularly. I wrote in it yesterday about all of last week. The library test in week four was good, and I have done some ECDL parts, not much mind you, but three sections of module one shows that I'm interested, in my opinion.

So, that's the low-down on CCS1 assignments for me to this day. I should be shitting it big time, but I'm not, thankfully. Or maybe not. It's late at this stage, so goodnight, God bless.

Friday, November 02, 2007

The Story of Eddie Rockets

I started this in June of this year. I now presume, that at the time, I only meant it to be a little thing. Five months and 1,500+ words later, here it is. A memoir of the Eddie Rockets days.


Eddie Rockets (a.k.a. Eddie's & to a lesser extent Edwardo's; Dave called it that.) in general is cool. But in particular, I have a certain connection with the Swords outlet. Several things contribute to this feeling of closeness to the establishment.

I think I was first in Eddie's about four years ago. Either Dave Fitzgerald or Anna O'Sullivan brought me in for a shake and chicken wings. Can't quite remember. But I thought it was cool anyway. We (not sure who the other person was, more likely to be Anna) had a milkshake drinking race. It's a difficult thing. One has to drink fast enough to win but slow enough not to torture oneself with brain freeze. So, it was a tactical thing. Eat, take a sup, munch on chicken wing, take sup etc. You get the idea. After the three or four visits in a reasonably short amount of time with Mr. Fitzgerald and Ms. O'Sullivan, I didn't venture back until...

The Night of the Junior Certificate Results 2005

Yes, this gets a heading! This was the night, the night that started off lots and lots of other night in the same fashion, but with little differences. I'm not sure (about anything these days) how we came to the decision that we'd go to Eddie's. But somebody must have thought of it. Let's just say it was either myself or Bailey or Dave. But we went there anyway. It was pretty legend. Lotsa people came with us. From memory now, (which you know isn't great) Ross Clooney, Cian Bailey, Graham Scott, Finn, Dave O'Shea, Yombo Rahman, Dan Burke and me, Liam Maloney. 'Twas grand craic, we had a good laugh so we did altogether. We were all in two booths, or whatever they call them, in on the left as you go in the door. I can't remember what time we arrived, or I can't remember what time we left. But I do remember that we saw Ms. O'Gorman walking by the window. We waved and she came in and...well, I can't remember what she was saying, but it was something nice anyway.

So, that was the first time Eddie's was used as a gathering point. Over the coming year and a half it was to be used frequently (weekly) for three young lads, although occasionally, they were accompanied by a scattering of others.

As far as I remember, there was a brief period before the Eddie's period, when the three young lads started going to Pizza Hut in the Omni Shopping Centre on Friday evenings. Others were invited along and the origins of the idea were generally unknown by the invited ones, and called into question. They got it wrong, so the founding members discarded the whole thing. Out of this need for a meeting place, of an honourable degree, the three decided on Eddie Rockets as the new sacred place of assembly. I suppose, it was a hell of a lot closer too. That was probably the main reason. Also, not having a get a bus was also a factor. Anyway, the first part is more dramatic and can be made sound cool.

So, Eddie's became the new place that myself, Finn and Dave (I mean, the three gallant fellows) went on a Friday night. Again, I can't remember when we started going there, but the main thing is that we did. It was some stage in early fifth year though, I suppose. At one stage, we went there every Friday night, for God knows how long! 'Twas great. We'd go at about half nine at night, so that we could go down through Highfields. Then, we'd leave about half eleven or twelve, and walk up the Forrest Road. Good times, good times.

One of the great things about Eddie's was the doorman. Well, there are many doormen, but one guy in particular stood out as being "the sound doorman." He got to know us to see, well, we did go in every Friday for three or four consecutive weeks. So, at the start, we'd nod to him on the way in. But as the weeks and months went on, we'd give him an enthusiastic greeting or even a wave of sorts. Or even that little salute thing that I do all the time. Eventually, we got onto such good terms with him, that he started giving me handshakes and high-fives. Strangely enough, it was just me, to the best of my knowledge. Maybe it was just that I was the first one in the door most of the time, or maybe he just thought that I was cool and that the others were a bit shit. That's to be debated. After a certain time, we stopped going to Eddie's. It was a good while afterwards that we went back for a once-off thing. But, there he was, at the door, with his Bluetooth ear yolk in. He gave us a big smile, and said that he hadn't seen us for a while! Obviously he was just talking to me, because of one of the reasons mentioned above. Then on the way out, I had a real friendly handshake. So, all I can say is fair play to The Sound Doorman.

If there was one slightly eerie thing to be connected with Eddie's, it was the traffic lights. It started one night when just Dave and myself went down. Therefore, nobody else really got it. We never really explained it, so there's the real reason. So, now is the time. During the night, any time Dave looked out across the road, the traffic lights at the Lord Mayors were orange!! Or amber or whatever they are. So, this kept happening, he would just look up and the orange would catch his eye, he'd point outside, and, it'd be orange. So there you are folks, that's the story.

Finn's gone to Russia. Grammatically speaking, there's nothing wrong with this sentence. But, of course, Finn has never been to Russia. Well, I don't know what sort of dreams he has, but not physically. We were in Eddie's one evening, just myself and Dave. Finn was in the Millbank Theatre in Rush. One the waiters came over to take our order. He recognised us for obvious reasons. He's the guy who bleached his hair once, not to our approval, but that's none of our business, really. So, he noticed that there was only the two of us. He asked where my brother was, Finn as he thought. First we set him straight about the mistaken fraternal bond and then informed him that he was in Rush. "He's in Russia?" says he. I know it's not very funny, but it was an Eddie's moment and I'm sticking by it.

"Under-the-table-banging" somehow became a frequently preformed (and frequently sore) action in Eddie's. It's not that we banged under the table. It simply meant that we hit our knee off the underside table to create a thud. I have no idea where it started, or why, for that matter. Although I may have a little idea. It was funny and regularly executed for comic effect when speaking of certain matters.

Two sayings that originated inside the premises of Mr. Rockets are "you made my laugh" and "you whacked me off." The first was a mess-up of Mr. O'Shea, obviously meaning, you're making me laugh. The second is more complex, and I'll have to think back to the evening in question. I remember Mr. Cian Bailey was present among others, if memory serves me right. We were messing on the seats and I think I was slowly nudging Finn off the side and he came in contact with the side of the table or the edge of the seat (that occasionally had screws sticking out). So he starts, "you whacked me off...". The sentence hung there, unfinished. Then, Mr. Bailey begins the sniggering and we cop on. These phrases have no meaning, but are repeated every now and again, for the laugh.

Ronan (arrange the fadas how you wish, I'm not sure), a mate of Cian, joined us a few times. Good laugh, no doubts. One of us had fries (small, shit, expensive chips) and as customers of Eddie's know, there's a pepper sort of thing on the "fries." Ronan didn't quite understand what this strange substance was, and gave it name, "sprinkly stuff," accordingly. Ya know, de sprinkly stuff! Although we know what he meant, Finn turns to him and says, in a nice demeaning tone, "eh, salt." Only the guys will know what I mean on that one!

Eddie's has bred some great characters. One such character is the Protective Father. On a raunchy evening, we were sitting about, talking about bold things, with "penis" and such words flying around repeatedly. In the next set of seats sat a father with his two children, presumably. The poor chap was trying desperately to block out our foul talk with equally frequent loud questions to his kids such as "ARE YEZ ENJOYIN' THE CHIPS, KIDS??"

To conclude, I'd like to quote the Eddie's song.

We're goin' out tonight and you know we're gonna have some fun. Eddie Rockets!

Them and those were the days of the Leaving Cert Friday nights of Eddie's. They were surely fun. All we really ever consumed were malts, the occasional Fanta, and as for Dave, well, that's another story. He had veggie burgers every now and then, and even ordered those doritos yokes, even though he hated them and complained about the price. In fairness, prices are high, but not when all you're having is a malt of a Friday evening. So, fairwell to the days of folly in Eddie's, they will forever represent youth and stupidity to a certain extent. But they were good times. Nice one. This article is long over-due and hopefully it's accurate (lads, feel free to correct me on anything). Oíche mhaith dóibh.