There you are now, look at you.

9 09 2010

After an extended hiatus due to not really giving a fuck about anything that was going on in the world, I’ve decided to stick my neck back into the blogosphere and hope that it doesn’t get, you know, cut, like.

However, having nothing to say about anything at the minute might be a bit of a set back.

Well, nothing you haven’t heard or read anywhere else. Nothing original anyway.

Yeah yeah. Politicians are all bastards. Yeah yeah the clergy are all deluded stone age fools. Yeah yeah.

Yeah yeah.

Etc.

Oh, and having a quota stating the amount of women you need to have on your electoral ticket is fucking ridiculous.





On Days Like These

1 11 2009

On days like these we try hard to find an opening line to the rest of our lives. On days like these we think, like any other day, but nothing becomes any the clearer. On days like these we can’t sit back and wait for life to come to us. On days like these we must embrace what life has given us and try harder to take whatever more we can from that same life. On days like these we look around us and see the world through the same eyes as on days like any other, only we know we see what we dare not to admit. And we see. On days like these the word must not be waited upon. Neither must the world be forced to wait on us. On days like these we must engage what we know to be true and act with honour and dignity to fulfil what days like these can only offer us when we have the courage to see days like these for what they are.

 They are days like any other.

 Every day is a day like this.





There is Beauty in Truth….

1 10 2009

….but the truth isn’t always beautiful.

More to follow.





The Lisbon Treaty

26 09 2009

If I had a gun, and a kitten, and Declan Ganley, Coir, Youth Defence or Sinn Fein advised me to not shoot the kitten, I’d probably shoot the kitten.

And thats all I have to say about that.





Make a Wish

31 08 2009

If I had one wish, I know what I would wish for.

I would wish to be ignorant, because ignorance is bliss.

I wouldn’t care about corruption in politics, because politics would go over my head. I wouldn’t vote because I would think that my vote doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t care about having to wait for a day in A&E with a broken chair stuck in my head because sure that’s what everyone has to do. I wouldn’t be bothered about the people lying in stretchers in corridors because they are not related to me.

I would assume that people in power are there because they know what they are doing, and the know what they are doing because they are there.

I would go to mass every week and give my money into the basket, not making the connection between what I’m giving and the fact that it is being used to indemnify paedophiles and even if I did make the connection, I would suppress it and forgive them for they have repented and even if they didn’t sure its nothing to do with me.

I wouldn’t care about the banking crisis because as far as I’m concerned it doesn’t affect me. I wouldn’t have any money in the bank anyway because I spent every weekend in the pub with my spouse, having dinner in the Jasmine and Sunday lunch in Russell’s and it didn’t matter if we woke up broke on Monday because there was always another pay packet next week and the credit card will take care of things until then.

Murder in the Middle East would be interesting on the telly but would get ignored when it suited me. Big Brother would be more like it. Nice thoughtless brain barbituate to while away the idle evenings untill I can take my two weeks in Santa Ponsa to snap my fingers at Manuel for another bottle of Bud to drink in the scorching midday sun while my skin burns. Lets see Mary Harney ban that I probably wouldn’t think to myself, as the locals close their shutters for siesta.

NAMA? Well, the Sun doesn’t really write much about it so I wouldn’t know.

You see, life can be fine for those who don’t know. Sometimes its nice to wonder what it might be like to not only just not know, but to have no interest in knowing.

Makes you think.

Or not.





Down? How About a Kick in the Nads!

27 04 2009

As if we didn’t have enough problems. Scumbags running the day to day affairs of our towns a cities, scumbags in suits taking money from our wages to keep them rich, inept and corrupt officials using Joe Public as a piggy bank, more people loosing their jobs than you can shake a stick at, people coming out of hospitals sicker than when they went in with hunger and poverty being all the rage these days.

Now to top it all off we have an impending global flu pandemic.

Brilliant.

Like we really need another way in which the government can be useless. Mary Harney has been doing her best to dismantle the health service for the last few years, preferring to spend money on shafting BUPA so Sean Quinn (who incidentally doesn’t seem to be subject to “Risk Equalisation”) could diversify out of Anglo.

A few years back they issued us all with iodine pills in case of a nuclear attack. Remember that? Just vaporised by a lunatic Muslim? No bother! Here’s an iodine pill for you. That’ll sort you right out. Now I can see them cancelling mass or something equally vapid and useless for the sake of being seen to be doing something without actually having done anything at all to save lives that might in any way cost them any money, the bastards.

I’m actually half looking forward to seeing how much of a balls they make out of handling this, should it reach here. This country has become a parody of itself. Thick Mick just blew his first pay cheque and now he cant afford to go to the doctor. You know, it would probably be hilarious if it wasn’t so fucking infuriating.





Woe betide thyne Scumbags

23 04 2009

Having nothing better to do these days due to the failing economy, I visited my good old parents for a cup of tea this morning. My mother is a very unique woman. Advancing in years, yet very healthy and by looking at her you can tell she makes an effort to keep herself well.  She eats well, gets out as much as she can, doing this and that as they do and regales me with all the inside stories on whats going on around the place. My father reads the paper and grunts at me. The silver-back of the family, so to speak.

Near where they live there are flats recently vacated under the buy fancy jeeps and paint regeneration on them scheme. Since they have been vacated they have become the usual target for all the usual sorts of shite that scumbags do to amuse themselves.  Last night, they went up on fire. (The flats, not the scumbags, unfortunately). A few weeks ago they were vandalised so the local council who claim to not have the money to demolish them put big railings around them. So, the scangers across the way stole a JCB, used it to tear down the railings and burnt the JCB before coming back to light up the flats when the fire brigade didn’t show to quench the machinery. They lit up the flats so they could molest the fire crew that arrived to put them out.  As soon as the engines came around the corner stones and bottles went flying at them. When they got out of the engines they found that the water main had been deliberately tampered with so they had to sit and wait and watch the flats burn while dodging missiles to wait for a tanker full of water to arrive.

Six engines (one draughted in from Ennis) and a water tanker. A massive yoke, so it was.

It would have cost less to knock the flats than to answer that emergency call. I’m sure of it.

These were not kids. These were pricks in their twenties with nothing better to do than harass a bunch of brave and hard working fire fighters out trying to make the scumbags in question shitty little lives safer. It galls me to think that, should any of these wankers become trapped or the victim of their own misadventures, they would fully expect these same men to come to their rescue, and come they would regardless.

A better man than me once suggested a pretty sure fire way to sort out a lot of these problems, and he in now way suggested the punishment of stupidity, rather, lets take the warning labels off of everything. Let the problem sort itself out. If they are out breeding us then surely we can educate our children to realise themselves that they shouldn’t use hairdryers in the bath, or whatever.

Just a suggestion.

Chew on it for a while and let me know what you think.

Limerick is now over run by scum, and there is nothing we can do about it. For my own part, I’ve given up despairing. I’m actually intrigued at this point and I’ll tell you why. The time is fast approaching when the government are going to run out of dole money. At the very least they will have to cut it significantly. Its only a mater of time before the whole scumbag culture implodes in on itself under the weight of a billion hoop earrings and dirty Nike Air Max.

I’m popping my corn and pulling up a ringside seat for these end times, or the Rapidture, as I’m going to call it. The four piebald horsemen of the Epoxy-clips will be bombed out of their heads on resin, and wont know whats going on. Then some lad with long hair will appear asking about Mount Olive and get the head digged off him by Olive’s brother and because he looks like a Muppet. Then there shall be a great tribulation, and Declin shall have lost sight of the bag of yokes he placed under the wheely bin only the night before, and verily, Tony shall smite his brethren who spake unto the social welfare of his cohabitation in his concubine’s council house.

A fitting end to a dramatic chapter, I feel.