Passive Aggressive Notes

I am a slob, a sloth and a laze. My bedroom is generally a kip. My method of cleaning my room is to hide everything in the wardrobe or to put everything in the wash. Although I lack giving a shit to make my bed everyday or to pull my curtains (or draw? the point is they're rarely closed as that means pulling them open again), the one thing I do have is SHAME. Yes, it is shame that drives me to hide the crap from the floor in my cupboard. Shame that makes me run several steps up the stairs before any guest in order to quickly knock some empty mugs into an open drawer. I for one think that shame is a beautiful characteristic, keeps us from being too real, human and downright gross. Some people lack this shame. And it's a bit gross. Salmonella? No ta.

Admittedly this picture is fine. Just that there is food left in the pot. For how long? Can I use that pot?

SO I left a note. Hope the grammar and tone was OK. And I still want them to think that I'm cool

Playing Catch With EU Cheese

MAMA sent another package. 2 in 2 weeks, wow. I feel, what's that word? Loved? No. Feared. I mentioned to her that to have a few needles and pins would be a bit good. Ya know, for when winter falls and I need to darn my tights. And what do I get? A sweet sewing emergency kit.

• Left handed fabric scissors
• Dressmaker's pins
• Needles
• Strawberry pin cushion
• Thimble
• Stitch ripper
• Tailor's chalk
• That weird wheel thing with serrated edge
• Measuring tape
• Hook and eyes, safety pin, spare buttons
• Selection of coloured threads

Wow, looking at that list I feel like a brat. It's better than my kit at home.

Other goodies include; black bra, silvery bra, mini flake, insurance details, Bio Oil and and an un opened bottle of Boot's own Eye Wash...

wise words from bookmarkers

Just Sitting Around and Soaking Up Each Others' Awesomeness

SO some of the Hedwig followers have become a little bit envious of the life of an Erasmus kid. Sure, it's class. All sangria, euro tequila shots and creepy Spanish men with mullets. As much of a laugh it is, and as much as I like to gloat over many aspects of my new continental lifestyle, I think there is a part of me that is a little bit envious of my comrades back on home turf. Stuff that they're lucky to have:

Fresh milk.

Actual seasons.

The capacity to be witty, use word play.

Eeeeh that's all I can think of.

Free Things.

Never underestimate the amount of money locked up in bus ticket receipts. If you do, you're likely to just give them away for free, and you'll end up mightily out of pocket. Specifically, twenty Euro and fifteen cent out of pocket.

=

Then, you can go give blood. There's a bit on the form where It asks you if you've been in contact with monkeys or their 'fluids' recently. While being interrogated by the nurse, who asks you all the questions again, I asked whether anyone ever says yes to this question. Apparently about 2 people a year do. I thought at first that it must be those people who train monkeys in the circus, but apparently it's mostly just veterinary students.

Once you've proved that you're not a gay, or a drug user, or a foreigner, you get to give a pint of blood. It only takes about 8 minutes, but the record apparently is 3 minutes. Unfortunately, the speed depends on how big your veins are and not your heart rate, so it's pointless to get all your friends around for a blood-off because there's nothing you can do to ensure you'll win.

Then comes the free stuff. A canteen filled with sandwiches, timeouts, 7up, tea, Tayto Crisps and biscuits. It's class.

You can even eat the food if you couldn't give blood, just like this fat bastard did. 3 sandwiches and many time outs later, the nurse giving out the food wasn't best pleased.

Indie 'till the end

Shitbuzz, whilst cycling home from work just when I was getting smug about it and wondering why I ever got the bus I find myself lying on the ground cursing the day someone put a curb there. In a touching metaphor for life I clambered right back up, brushed it off and cycled home. However, when 3 days later the arm still won't straighten concerned family members decided it's perhaps time to get it checked out (mostly due to previous history of broken bones left to reset incorrectly..hem).

However, when lumbered with a standard grade white sling I decide this simply will not stand. Like any blogger worth their salt quickly slapped a sweet silk scarf on over it (with some help from a kindly first aid trained technician) et voila, statement injury wear for the 21st century girl about town.

Also, not to brag but getting it signed by Zach Condon'll also do the trick.

Nah, I am bragging. He's preeeetty.

I'm doing alright

During Daylight Hours

IT IS FUN TO DO STUFF. So we did things. Namely, got food and fucked aound (oooh risky choice of words!) the Trinity College area. Our first port of call was this sweet street side cafe for class pizzas. Then we saw a wedding in the Trinzer chapel. One guest wore a dress from Topshop that is now on sale. Scarleh. After digesting, we headed to that new milkshake place on Dame Street for some hotly awaited Kinder Bueno shakes. They were indeed class and the place was packed. Then it was off to Stephan's Green where we watched Italian students meet the face off each other. Some may call this dogging. As we took photos, they'd probably be correct in calling it this.

It was a good day.

And that's it

Nutty People in a Fruity World

I found my 6th class English copy. This is a story I wrote. I typed it all out, cos the photos were shit.

It was a normal day in foodville. Everyone was happy, until there was a murder. Tim the tomato had been fried, instantly killing him. It was all over the news because it was Foodvilles first murder. The culprits had to be apprehended, and quickly. The two officers assigned to the case were detective sausage and detective egg. Egg was 40 years old and had been with the force for for 4 years. Sausage was 30 and had been with the force for 3 years. Sausage was quite athletic but egg was fat, and could only waddle, not run. Sausage was single and egg was a loner. Together they made the perfect breakfast, but that's beside the point. They were the best men the force had ever had, and if anyone could apprehend the killer, they could.

First they visited tomato's family. They had said that he was shady and was a drug user. They went to his apartment and did a search. They tore the place apart. Underneath one of the floorboards they found a calling-card. It said :

Joe V. Turnip

2479054

Mob: 0872745398

They trashed the place some more, and left. They phoned the number.

Beep beep.....beep beep.....(picks up phone)

Egg: Hi

Joe: Hi

Egg: Say, are you a criminal?

Joe: No

Egg: Are you sure?

Joe: Yes

Egg: Aha! You said yes!

Joe: I know, I said it in relation to your question.

Egg: Liar! You confessed damn you, YOU CONFESSED

Joe: No I didn't you imbecile. I fart in your general direction! (puts down phone)

“Well, that sucked” said sausage “but I managed to track his phone.” “Where does he live” Inquired Egg. “Next Door” replied sausage. So they went next door.

First, they called in backup. A police helicopter hovered over the apartment block, police marksmen aimed at Joe's head, the area was cordoned off, and a SWAT team was waiting to go in. “When I say go, take down the door and go in” said Egg. “SNOW!” he shouted. “Just testin' ya” he said to the annoyed cops. “GO” he yelled. The swat team broke down the door. Tear gas filled the room, the place was trashed, and Joe was apprehended.

At the cop station Joe was tortured and beaten, and finally he gave in. he said that he was a member of the Turnip gang. The Turnip gang were notorious. They had been suspected of cooking other vegetables, illegal seed selling, banana peeling and illegal fruit smuggling, amongst other things. Their headquarters were in the middle of town, in Banana row. It was found out that Tim the tomato owed the Turnip gang seeds. A lot of seeds. And the suspected murderer was the leader of the Turnip gang, Don Turnip the VIII, and he was ruthless.

Egg and Sausage needed a plan. And fast. So, like in all good cop stories, they went to a lap dancing club. There they had some booze, got drunk, and formulated a plan. Their plan was to kill two members of the Turnip gang, steal their clothes, wear a balaclava to conceal their breakfast food features, ask to see the boss (Don Turnip VIII), kill him, and peg it. It was stupid and likely to fail, but they went ahead with it. First they killed a tomato, realised that they were meant to kill a member of the gang, and killed two turnips. They donned their new clothes and their balaclavas and walked in the front door of the headquarters. It was a very nice place, and it had snooker, a pool, a wide-screen TV, and girls. From a van swat teams tracked their every move, and after 2 hours they got bored and told egg (through an earpiece) to stop playing snooker and get on with the mission. So egg and sausage went upstairs, went into the Don's room, shot him, and ran. Sausage was out of there as quick as you could say “You're ugly,” but egg took his time, and he got shot. So sausage ran back in, grabbed egg, and also got shot.

It was time for the swat team. They ran in, shot everyone in sight, grabbed egg (it took 4 men to lift him) and sausage (one one man needed), and got out of there.

All in all:

The investigation took 1 week all in all.

Two apartments were destroyed.

One building went up in flames (the HQ)

33 people died. 17 were injured.

2 people suffered from insanity after the investigation.

Egg retired. Sausage got a raise.

And the case was solved.

I'll improve in timee

So this be lightpainting. I need to get some coloured lights, anybody know where i can get em? anyway..people should give it a go. Prob be easier with a few people as i struggled to hold the camera while holding down the shutter button andd holding the torch. When i was away i was told about it then i was just creepin about on buzzfeed and saw a link for amazing lightpaintings. These are rubbish, soon i'll perfect it!

What's the difference between porn and art?

According to the woman who overheard me, nothing. This was in response to a set of photos some guy took of his wife in the nip. And she wasn't even that hot. We were in the the Douglas Hyde gallery you see, because the Science Gallery was closed. There were paintings there too. One was of a girl shaking up tomato soup while taking a slash, (I couldn't take a picture), and another was of a girl smoking a cigarette and drowning at the same time.

Then Clikdikdikker went to go be cheeky to knacker thieves, and submissive, deferential and subservient to everyone else. I went to the library. Specifically, to the Berkeley Basement: that part of the library in which they fuck all the books they can't be arsed to categorize properly. I love finding entire books on very specific topics. To this end, I found tomes on

Which were beside manuals on how to stop your child from pissing and shitting everywhere:

And how to shoot down things:

By this time the library was nearly closed, and I needed to drop a deuce anyway. I found some last books, which may or may not have been instruction manuals:

And then I made sure that my stash was still safely in place:

And then I went home.

Although I've Zero Funds

A very kind tipoff resulted in myself and ClickClikDccker hitting up the fabled €1.50 sale in Ritzy Rags on Bolton Street. Too good to be true, I know, riiiight?! Their stock is mega sweet cos of a deal struck up with a french charity meaning they get in some awesome Parisian threads. As if this wasn't good enough at regular charity shop prices every now and again they do a €1.50 sale. Which does exactly what it says on the tin really. Everything in the shop is a mere one fiddy unless, of course, it's less. All this and it's for a good cause. Pretty much guilt free shopping? Oh, fangs.

Here's my haul anyways. Autumn, bring it.

Why yes, that is a tweed jacket with elbow patches. I'll be employing this with shitloads of layers in Prague to stay toasty whilst looking both intelligent and dignified. I've got this dressing for a different, icy, city stuff down pat.

Total cost of all the lovely tings? €8.30.

Oh, that just feels so good. One more time. €8.30. Nice.

Close up of saweet tuxedo shirt and paisley tie. Om nom.

I know, I am a lazy motherfucker

But to make up for it here's some lovely news.

Illamasqua are doing everyone a favour, member that foundation the girl in MAC told you totally matched your skintone 'till you got home and realised you looked something like some of the more blatantly non self aware members of the Dublin 4 borough of this fair city? It's been mocking you, right? Sitting in your press, laughing, 'Ha bish, you paid €25+ for me and how many uses have you got? None? Ah, shame'. No more! Bring any, and I mean any, of your old, unused or empty make up in and get a whopping 25% off anything you buy from Illamasqua. Eh, bit awesome, no? Details here. You can just buy me a drink to say thanks, it's cool.

k, i must seem like some sort of hunga with all my food related posts..

Some days i am, but this day was a special day as we went OUT for dinner. very fancy, i know.

Myself, Stack and Nolan went to the restaurant , The Yacht, the one in Clontarf across from Beachcode. As we were all out the night before in filth city that is Fibbers we were hungover and hungry. extremely hungry. you have no idea. I got the food shakes. Since Stacks Dad (Rory) is the head chef there and has won the title of 'Best Carvery of the year'....the best in Ireland!. We said we'd go, we were late for the carvery so we got other sweet nice things.


I like how i get right in their faces as they try to eat. nice.

Nolan got Fish and a salad and a side order of garlic cheese potatos.
(the ones from the telly)

Stack got prawn n beef curry with rice n some chips.
Her first time to have it. It went down a treat.

I got a fish pie and the same side as Nolan.
It was Whop and it wasn't crazy hot so i could dig into it straight away.

This be the garlic cheese potato side.

namnam.

After we consumed everything we had a lovely walk from clontarf to drumcondra road to get the bus. Oh how it rained on that walk but at least our food digested. Griffith Avenu is long, very long and straight, it seems some what never ending.

How NOT to start your day

These are shite. In the ad the lady is left all satisfied and happy as i was not.

So

This is when Mr.Zumo

i do heart zumos. the tissue doesn't lie.

and toasted holey cheese, cucumber, toms and mackerel come in. and of course WORCHESTER SAUCE. I used to drown my spuds in this stuff. hmm seems like a lot. meh i was hungry.