Life Without Toast - Sibling Rivalry

Today, as part of the run-up to the whole "wedding thing", I went to the dentist for a check-up and clean, in order that my gnashers will look their best in the wedding photos. The conversation went something like this:

Dentist: "So it's been eight years since you've been to a dentist? It's definitely a good idea to go every eight years alright..."

Me: "ROFL!"

Dentist: "Okay then, lets have a look"

(several minutes pass while numbers are called out, seemingly at random)

Dentist: "your teeth are perfect. How did you do that? I don't understand how some people don't get a check-up for eight years and still have perfect teeth"

Me: "I don't understand how it's too hard or inconvenient to brush your teeth twice a day, and take care of them"

Dentist: "if everyone was like you I'd be out of a job"

Me: "WOCL*!"

(my parts have been translated from the native "GRRHrHrhnrhrhaaaahnnnslurp"-type speech you have when your mouth is full of water-jets, scrapers and Hoovers)

*_{Writhing On Chair Laughing}

Posted by Matt at 10:44 AM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

• Driving on the right in a right-hand drive car isn't actually that hard.
• Irish drivers are FUCKING BRUTAL, even when they're not driving in Ireland.
• In France, you can't be busted for speeding by a stationary camera unless there's a sign immediately before it saying that the camera is there and what speed you should be going. So, to get busted for speeding, you have to be very, VERY stupid.
• Tuesday is the day when the Police Nationale cover the countryside with mobile speed-traps. Driving at or under the speed limit is generally a very good idea.
• In your car, you must have: A spare set of bulbs/fuses, a warning triangle, a hi-viz jacket, a spare tyre, and your tires must be the correct thread depth. The penalty for not having all of these is death.
• It's the law in the French countryside that if you are walking down the road, you must be carrying a baguette.
• It's also French law that there must be two bakeries in every village, so you can get croissants on a Sunday or Monday morning even if one of them is closed.
• The wine is approximately as cheap, per litre, as petrol, but tastes a lot better.
• The cheese! Like, OMG.
• Did I mention the wine?
• And the CHEESE. Oh, the cheese...
• A lot of people died on D-Day, and the French (at least the ones in Normandy) are very grateful.
• To say the lifestyle is laid-back (in the countryside of Normandy) is a ridiculous understatement.

Posted by Matt at 11:15 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

While browsing the Huffington Post this morning, I came across an interesting juxtaposition of two Google ads:

Google must be using a HECK of an algorithm to put those two together.

Posted by Matt at 11:35 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

What is with the bloodywell mobile phone signal on this side of the country, I am still on "the mainland" and yet I have no bars. It's official West Is Best, I even had signal on Rottnest Island but not in Mission Beach, I mean I know it's in the sticks as far as the East Coast goes but seriously, that's just taking the piss. Also I am going to be on Islands till next feckin Tuesday (also on a boat sailing about the Whitsundays and hopefully doing another scuba duba dive) so I doubt that I will have any signal then. It's just annoying, I am travelling alone, sometimes you want to touch base with the outside world. Fook SAKE!!

Posted by Babs at 12:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I have a few routes I can take to work. The most boring, and probably slowest one is from Shankill to Dun Laoghaire through Ballybrack. There’s traffic lights and boring bits of really straight roads with 50km/h speed limits. I almost never take that route.

The other one, which is quite nice, is straight over Killiney Hill on the Killiney Hill road and Dalkey Avenue, through Dalkey and onto Ulverton Road. I take that one mostly. It’s not a bad drive, and probably the quickest route. But there’s some horrible speed bumps. And there’s been road works on it for the past two weeks.

The best route, which is FUCKING AWESOME, is this one (you may have to scroll a bit):

I’ve driven this one a few times in the past week. It has magnificent views, hairpins, switchbacks, narrow, twisty bits with walls on both sides, blind corners nice straights, and the road surface is almost entirely perfect (which is rare for Ireland).

Posted by Matt at 8:07 PM | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBacks (0)

Being the slightly snobbish coffee aficionado that I am, I have a Gaggia espresso machine at home. Like almost all espresso machines, even the really, really expensive ones, it came with a shitty black plastic tamper, rather than something even slightly decent. If you know anything about coffee, you'll know that the quality of the espresso is dependent on several factors, like water pressure, evenness of grind, and perhaps most importantly, the tamping, ideally done with a tamp weighing approx 1/3 of a kilo, and made of stainless steel. So I got bored with drinking good, but not excellent coffee while at home, and I ordered an Espresso Tamper from the Gaggia UK website last night.

This is the confirmation page after placing the order:

Wouldn't it be great if you could send mails to people's phone numbers? Think of the spam though. Maybe not.

Posted by Matt at 10:56 AM | Permalink | Comments (13) | TrackBacks (0)

So I was cooking up a tasty stir-fry last night for myself and herself, and while I was peeling the garlic (LOADS of garlic), I came across the oddest thing. When I peeled the skin off one garlic clove, the clove was orange. It kinda looked like a segment of a mandarin/satsuma, and smelled kinda like the smell you get from a garlic capsule (you know, the ones that look like cod-liver-oil capsules). Click the image there for a larger view (the orange clove is the one that's orange...). All the other cloves, as you can see, are totally normal.

Anyhoo, it was fucking weird. So I had to take a photo, and blog it (obviously). Has anyone seen anything like this before? Or can anyone shed any light on why exactly one of my garlic cloves was fucking ORANGE?! Needless to say, it didn't go into the stir-fry.

Nice one dudes.

Posted by Matt at 12:31 PM | Permalink | Comments (12) | TrackBacks (0)

There were two instances today where I felt like the most intelligent human ever (that doesn't happen very often!!)

1: I pulled out of the driveway in work, some gonk in a small car (almost as small as mine but with a 1L engine or less), they took the corner super wide and nearly took a group of people and a bus out of it. Then I looked up, an L driver. Now I have nothing about L drivers but it was the way that they had their L plate displayed. Upside down!! If someone cannot put an L plate onto their own vehicle so that it's readable by the general public, they shouldn't be allowed behind the wheel. Seriously, did they not look at thier handywork with the hatch back boot closed??

2: I went to Tesco to get some "messages" (as the aul wans say!) I decided to save time I would go to the self check out. BIG mistake! I don't understand how people do not know how to use them. Read the forking instructions you idiots! For a start the machines TALK to you, they also have lots of words explaining what to do written on the touch screen.

There were three people on front of me in the queue, three machines working and all of these were occupied. It took me 15 minutes of queuing to scan my two poxy items. Jasus wept! There was one woman, about 30 ish I would say, dressed like she had an important job, she obviously had no brain though unfortunatly. She asked for a plastic bag, the machine asked her (voice and words on screen) did she accept that she had to pay the bag tax. It said it CLEARLY on the screen, there were big massive YES and NO icons to touch on the screen, and she insisted on not looking at the screen and also trying to ram her fifty quid into the paper money receptical. Knobarama!!

Then the attendant came over, pressed yes, the Tesco lady ate her ?50 and then instead of listening to the electronic lady saying "Notes are dispensed below the scanner" she was looking UNDER the machine, on top of the machine, basically there could have been a giant flashing neon arrow pointing her in the direction of her change and she would have still been standing there looking bewildered. I actually wanted to kill her. I am not going in there again for a while. I just needed some spinnach for my dinner. :(

Posted by Babs at 7:27 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

Last night I finished my Christmas shopping and I am so super excited about that fact that it is actually rather unreal to me. A few general thought about Christmas shopping, make a list and check it twice, I thought that I had my list finished, turns out, no, hence me having to go back last night and finish up. Be ruthless, if there is a long queue skip it, but not in a brash way, be all "oooh no these books are really heavy, I feel like I am about to faint etc" people will move out of your way, don't under any circumstances go shopping for yourself at the same time, this will result in extreme pain in your arms from carrying the presents in the paper bags and also all of the loot you are frantically grabbing for yourself. Don't bring a friend. It's too distracting, go it alone, people are assholes, Dundrum is great because it opens until 9 every day mid week even a Monday, which is when I normally go anyway, Babs no likey crowds, last night there were crowds, not big ones, but they were there. I met my friend there for hot choclate, the girl in Butlers asks "do you want whipped cream?" nicely to the two of us, we both gave her scornful looks which meant "load it on up there missus" mmm, it was lovely, but unfortunatly Butlers does not provide tea spoons for the take away hot choc so I walked around Dundrum licking the chocolate bits from the top of my cup, I had no choice, if they melt in its so not the same.

We went into La Senza (the undies shop) and really I was quite disgusted, I did also almost get kicked out for basically pissing myself laughing, some of the stuff in there was so Ann Summers, as in, yock!! I will describe one item and you can make your own judgements, it was a g-string, made of this horrible shiny material, with a, oh god its hard for me to find the words, it had a zip down the front, I mean, can you not just take them off if you are going to be getting busy, a zip, about 2 inches long, ew, they were vile. They also had mens stuff which I had never seen before in there. I am sad, they have dropped their standards, in other words, I'll not be going there again, yock!

(PS: Apologies to Matt for talking about underwear...again).

Posted by Babs at 9:03 AM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

So I was browsing one of my favourite sites tonight, and I saw this (it's an ad, and if you hadn't guessed by the "turn on sound" button, it's very NSFW to press the "turn on sound" button).

I was mildly amused. I was also shocked that Eircom have come up with an ad campaign that's mildly amusing, as opposed to "totally pants", the way they usually are. I was even more surprised that it was on a site that wasn't from Ireland, but more a targeted ad for people accessing in Ireland. This means Eircom's advertising department appear to have acquired some sense.

I find that the most shocking bit of all. But I'm still not going to get Eircom Broadband, because although Eircom's service is known to be reliable, that's only because they are a bunch of fucking Nazis.

Posted by Matt at 1:48 AM | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBacks (0)

Today I found ?40 on the ground, at first I thought it was a ?20 but on closer inspection it was 2 of them neatly folded, they had obviously just fallen from the hands/pocket of its owner. I didnt keep it. I handed it in so to speak. It got me thinking of my time of poorness.

It was about 6 years ago, I was in 2nd year in college and I was in town, it was a Monday night and it was lashing down, sheets of rain, I wanted a taxi home but had the ?4 for the nitelink and that was all. I had been in the pub drinking with my friend. We went to the an ATM at the bottom of Grafton Street, as I was at the machine I glanced towards the ground and saw a wallet. I picked it up and inside was over ?400, someone had obviously just gone to the ATM and dropped it, my mind was racing. Could I keep it. It was over a months rent to a very very poor college student. It was all of my Christmas presents bought. It was a lot of money to me. I looked it the wallet. Passport pictures of a boy, credit cards, gym membership card, bank card, a million other pieces of identification. Could I keep it? I reluctantly walked to Pearse Street Garda Station and was pretty much pushed in the door by my pending guilt. I handed the wallet in, with all of the money still in it. They took my name and address and told me that if it hadn't been claimed that I would be the rightful owner after a year and a day. I wanted that money so much. But I thought "what if that had been me who dropped it, I would be fucked".

Two weeks later I got a letter, it was from the person who owned the wallet, attached was a voucher for Tower Records for ?50, it was her rent money, it was her money, she gave me a reward because she, like me, would have been fucked if I had kept it. It made me smile for the whole day. I sold the voucher on the college notice board for less than the face value because I needed it more than I needed the music it could have bought me. But I felt good for weeks later because I hadn't been that asshole.

When I found the money today I wanted to keep it, but I couldn't, because I know how pissed off I would have been if it had been my ?40. Do other people hand things in?

(*Note: Once, I threw a twenty euro note into the bin in the shopping centre beside my house with a reciept, the most thick thing I have ever done, I hope the cleaning person who may or may not have found it bought themselves something nice with it and that it didn't go to a landfill!!)

Posted by Babs at 12:10 AM | Permalink | Comments (6) | TrackBacks (0)

This morning I was late-ish leaving for work, I ran out to the car, jumped in and pulled out the driveway, only to be pulled into the bus lane by my baby car, "fuck" says I, so I pulled into the side road just beside my house, jumped back out of baby car, and saw to my horror what can only be decribed as a flatter than flat tyre." FUUUUUUUCK" says I again rather loudly, some boys from St. Michaels College walked past and sort of sniggered at me, "hate that" one of them said under his breath. Yes I did, I did hate that.

I pulled the jack, the lock nut, the spare wheel and the socket spanner out of the boot and got to work. I was freaking, mainly because I didnt want to get dirty, I was wearing all brand new clothes, and a skirt and tights was part of my attire, not really the best wardrobe choice to be crawling about on a dirty pathway, "aha" I thought, "I have an idea" so I got the spare wheel and used that as a seat so I did not have to sit on the dirty ground or kneel thus ripping the aforementioned tights (M & S = ?9 for tights - oh oh).

I would say about 100 cars passed me without one person even asking was I ok. I mean I knew what I was doing, Daddy Verso showed me how to change a wheel long ago, but still, I was a damsel in distress and people are supposed to stop and rescue me no? People can be real assholes sometimes. Anyway, I was half way through when a lovely lad with a northern accent came along and finished the job for me. So I want to say a big massive THANK YOU to you mister northen lad who got his hands dirty for me, he was going to the Chinese Embassy to get his Visa, he was my knight in shining armour today and I will be forever greatful.

So I jumped into the car and started thinking of the last time I had a flat tyre, I was again on my way to work, but I had seen the tyre was flat before I had gotten out the driveway which was fairly handy. I called my friend Peter who lived nearby and also worked with me to see if he had left yet and if so could he swing by my place and collect me. He came down in his car, took off my flat, put on the spare and we drove in a mini convoy to work, he then took my flat tyre to the tyre place around the corner to be fixed, brought it back and put it back in its place, he was my knight in shining armour that day.

Peter died two weeks ago, we used to mind each other a lot, I would Mammy him and he would talk to me about cars. We used to make up soap operas in work because we were bored, in these soap operas we were married and then divorced, I suppose it was one of those had to be there at the time things, I made him a Valentines Card and sent it anonomously, from his secret admirer, it was the "I Choo Choo Choose You" one from the Simpsons, it was so funny when he found out it was from me, because I think he thought I was for real, which of course I was not, I thought about all of the things we did together, we laughed, we had screaming matches, we talked about cars, we drove his car very fast (mine does not go very fast, his did, as in VERY!!), he taught me about boy racer terminology, I taught him how to get red wine stains out of clothes, he made me tea every day, and I cried all the way into work because you really dont know what you have got till its gone. I miss my Peter Pamphlet and I can never have him back.

Posted by Babs at 12:15 AM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

So I was in work today reading the mag that comes with the Guardian from the weekend (yes it takes me yonks to get through papers, I was busy ok?) and I come across a full page advert that looked something like this:

I mean, really, is this actually for real? Can people not just go horse riding? And also I have a question for the people at iJoyride....do you have to wear the jodhpurs and the helmet and all to get the full effect? Can you use a whip? This is by far one of the most ridiculous items I have ever seen...

Posted by Babs at 7:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I woke up this morning with a sore neck, I was wondering how this happened as I generally don't move at all while sleeping, really, people sometimes think that I am dead!! Then it came back to me, the mental dream that I had. It was definitely inspired by CSI last night (shh, I got a ddicted while unemployed). I was in my parents house and this man shot me in the stomach through the window. I remember it so clearly, as if it actually happened. I remember looking down at mytummy and there was a small hole about 5 inches above my belly-button and then I started to couch up blood, no one else was there and I couldn't get to a phone so I lay over the back of a chair trying to stem the bleeding until someone with no face came home and saved me. I was in the ambulance and they were holding down really hard on my belly and I was still coughing up blood, and then I was in the hospital and everyone I know was there, all these faces, but no words. I remember seeing people crying. And then I was fine again, but I had a scar from the bullet. Am I insane? It was a good dream, I think it would have made a good film... :)

Posted by Babs at 7:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

Anyone else getting them? Gmail, which up until now has caught an amazing 99.999%** of all dubious messages and dealt with them suitably harshly, seems to be unable to catch them as spam, presumably because they are in Chinese*. Is it just me or is this now a widespread phenomenon***?

_{* May not, in fact, be Chinese, but another Asian language.
** Estimated, there or thereabouts. The vast, vast majority.
*** Doo-doo-bee-doo-doo.}

Posted by Matt at 2:29 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

I am packing to go to New York to see my mates, why do I always take too much stuff, I have 10 pairs of pants (as in knickers) I am going to be there for 7 nights, this was beat into me by my lovely Mammy when I was in scouts, its not going to rain and I am not going to wee myself and even if both of those things happen, I still have spare pairs, and 4 pairs of shoes, and too many clothes to think about, and I know I will end up buying loads over there too, is it legal to be this obsessive about what I am bringing, help!!

Posted by Babs at 11:41 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

Yesterday morning was lovely, but on the news (Today FM traffic & weather together) they had forecasted rain, so I braved the sun in my jacket and cycled into work, I was roasting when I got in but soon cooled down to my delight and then the rain came, so I was happy that I had brought it with me in the end, then the sunshine came again and amazingly enough stayed for the entire day and evening, I was chuffed apart from sweating it out on the bike on the way home squinting away without my lovely shades that had been discarded that morning, my old roomies mate Donncha was coming over to collect stuff that he had left behind and was waiting on the doorstep when I arrived, with a box of Lindor from Lindt (my fav), we drank copious amounts of tea (from a pot - cause I am fancy) and sat on the bench in my Amazonian garden (grass hasn't been cut in a while, I would say approx 6mths), then we went out to the driveway where I discovered that his exhaust pipe was literally hanging off "you would want to get that sorted" says I, "yeah I must" says he before he roared off into the sunset!

Posted by Babs at 11:04 AM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

Well OK not prehistoric but bloody old.

Here's the story...My grandparents went to California in 1994 to visit my grand-uncle Arthur where he lived for the winter months in a 'trailer'. He lived the other months back in Canada in British Columbia or some place like that.... ANYways....

Prehistoric Pines

My Granny is up the mountains in Santa Barbara one day and spots this dinky little pine tree, 8 foot high she said it was. There were two enormous pine cones underneath it so she gave one to her friend and took the other one home with her. End of story you would think.
So I am in my aunt and uncles house (Billy and Mary) recently and I see THE pine cone on their windowsill. So I was just playing with it when a few little black seeds fall out. Granny says sure why don't you plant them, I scoffed at her thinking 17 year old seeds? not a chance!

Well I thought I'd see what happened. So I planted 6 seeds 6 weeks ago and this morning I look at the pot and BY JINGO there's a little pine tree growing and another just about to come up!
Have a look!

Posted by Becca at 2:53 PM | Permalink | Comments (8) | TrackBacks (0)

So the lovely Marian who sits beside me in work, who I basically go on the doss with, and do lunch with mostly went to the dentist today and was told that she had to have ALL of her wisdom teeth out (does that mean she will be unwise??), so we were talking about it for most of the day cause neither of us had any major goss, and also, she was fairly upset about it, and then all of a sudden I began to get pains in my own wisdom teeth area, now, I have all of mine, completely, all perfect, not coming up any more, so how the fook am I getting pains in them now after almost two years pain free? The only explanation I can come up with is that I am having sympathy pains for her? Is this even possible? Who knows? But one thing is for sure, its very painful, so much so that I cannot sleep and as I refuse to take pain killers for anything, I guess I am up for the night ? groovy eh?

Posted by Babs at 12:07 AM | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBacks (0)

BRBBBRBBRBBRBRBRBBRBRBRBRBBBRBRBBRBRBRBRBRBRB

They are power-washing the entire area outside the theatre (where I work, new viewers).

BBRBBRBBBRBRBRBBRBRBBRBBRBBRBBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBR

Oh my God, I think the noise is going to drive me insane.

BRBBRBBRBBRBRBBRBRBBRBBRBRBBRbrbbrbbrbrbbbrbbrbbrb...

It's stopped (but I can still hear it in my head).

Now it's gone from my head. Aaah, peace and quiet. Now I can finally do some work. I can work through a lot of distractions (chiefly, the "I haven't blogged much recently" one), namely the pounding of music (remember, theatre), the grinding of err... grinders, sawing and hammering involved in building sets and scenery, but the relentless noise of a two-stroke pump is not something I can live work through. Even when I put in my earbuds and listen to my iPod, it's still there.

But it's gone now. So I better get on and do some wor...

BRBRBBRBBRBRBRBRBBRBRBRBBRBRBBRBRBRBRBRBRBBRB

Bollocks.

Posted by Matt at 6:28 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Yesterday, after putting it off for what seems like an eternity, I finally set the clock on our DVD player back to the correct time, after it had reset itself following a power cut some weeks back.

Today, there was another power cut, and the clock on the DVD player now reads 6.37pm.

Coincidence?

Posted by Matt at 8:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

So I was looking at Claire's photos of Knocknasink in Co. Wicklow (very Lord-Of-The-Rings-ey), and she points out that new-ish feature where you can add a map to a photo page, pointing out where the picture was taken. I zoomed in on the map and found that the satellite photos of the area (a fairly remote place) were really good, and they're supplied by Yahoo Maps.

See, I've been checking Google Maps and Google Earth's satellite imagery of North Dublin, to see if you can see my Mam and Dad's house, in Garristown, on them. Basically, you can't. When you go to Google Maps/Earth and look at most of North Dublin, it looks like this:

So like, just a big blurry mess then. I don't even know if this is even near the actual area I'm looking for, as it's such a big mess. It doesn't even have any roads on it for crying out loud, and this is the "hybrid" of satellite and map images.

Posted by Matt at 2:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (13) | TrackBacks (0)

So I was sitting at my desk today in work and we received an email from the lovely Amy who is our Health & Safety Rep telling us all about the new canteen duty rota, we have a cleaner but the way that the canteen is left is totally manky and I feel so sorry for her to have to clean up after some of the dirtbags who work here, they leave coffee grounds and teabags in the sink (this I don?t understand?do they think that its going to set the bin on fire or something?) also plates with food on them, bowls with mouldy cereal encrusted on them and they NEVER put anything into the dishwasher, I think they should have a camera in there to catch the dirty culprits but my idea has been turned down for some reason (!!). Basically they have come up with this roster thing that we all have to stick to which means that we have to clean up the canteen after these individuals who feel the need to walk past the bin, then past the dishwasher, to leave their (unstacked) crockery on the draining board. They also seem to have some sort of mental issue with putting milk back into the fridge. Old milk + hot coffee / tea = dry wretching from me. Do you think they would give me a sick day for that, they should!! I am annoyed about this roster thing, I am planning to stage a protest of some sort about it, one good thing though, when I am on ?duty? I am on holidays, so they can stick their roster up their arse!

Posted by Babs at 1:10 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

So, I was in St Vincents University Hospital (aka "Vincent's) today for a DEXA scan. Now, I had an appointment for 8.45, so I arrived at 8.45 with a newspaper in my hand and an iPod in my pocket, expecting an inordinately long wait, and to have to ring work to tell them I totally would NOT be in when I was supposed to be, at ten o'clock.

I was pleasantly surprised.

See, recently they built a whole new hospital at Vincent's. I had only ever been to the old one, with it's cramped, stuffy corridors, interminable waits for any kind of examination or service at all, and faint but definitely discernible smell of pee and/or puke. Now it's all different.

I entered into a huge, glass-walled, light-filled reception area, and went up to the reception desk where there was no, I repeat no queue. I asked the guy where I had to go. He had a list right in front of him with my name at the top of it (this is when I realised things might be radically different than before). He said it was the door on the right. There were lots of doors on the right.

"That door, right there?" I asked. He nodded. How convenient, I though.

I went in the door, and found myself in a waiting room. "Ah-HA!" I thought, "it's all an illusion, I really am going to be here for hours after all!" but the thought had only formed in my mind when a friendly Indian/Asian doctor lady walked in, asked me my name, and said they'd be ready in five minutes, and could I fill out this form thingy.

Five minutes later, I was lying on a bed in a hospital gown, getting my spine thoroughly scanned by a very fancy and modern-looking machine (I mean, it wasn't even powered by steam, which means the Irish Health Service is coming along in leaps and bounds) which beeped and moved around, and the bed moved up and down along with it. It took about twenty minutes for the scan, a quick chat with the Belgian scanner-operator lady and I was done. Back in the car, at work at 9.45.

NINE FORTY-FIVE! I was shocked, amazed, stunned. All of a sudden, we appear to have a health service in this country.

(actually, it was probably an isolated incident, and will never happen again)

Posted by Matt at 12:52 PM | Permalink | Comments (6) | TrackBacks (0)

It was last Thursday when this happened, but I have been busy and stuff?..

So I am coming out of the drive way of my office block, and there is a cross road beside me, I am turning right, it is a staggered crossroad, there is a car waiting to go from the road across from me, he has no indicator on, so I go, he obviously thought that I was telepathic or somehow knew that he wanted to turn the same way as me, but I didn?t, because he had no indicator on. So he is behind me, shaking his head and that, tut-tuting, I am thinking ?what an idiot? then as the traffic moved foreward the guy decides now is his chance to frighten the bejasus out of me, he drives up on the grass verge to the left of me so close that he clipped my wing mirror, and then starts to try and get on front of me, I am having none of it. In my head I am thinking ?I won?t let you beat me?. My friend was in the car on front of me, he was looking quite concerned at the situation. He tried to get on front but cut the car out on the process. So I drove around him. And then he went on the verge again and started to laugh insanely. I locked my doors. My friend in the car on front put on his hazard lights, I was thinking ?oh-oh?. My friend gets out of his car, walks to the insanely laughing mans car and knocks on the window. He asks what the guy is doing, and the guy just laughs in his face. My friend politely asks the insane guy to please stop trying to ram his friend?s car, and walks away. I think ?ok maybe now we can move forward? but he did it again!!!!!!! So I let him go, not without taking his reg number though. I don?t know if I am allowed to post it here, so I won?t. But he had no NCT, no tax or no insurance. So if I am feeling like fucking someone over someday, it will be him. And not without due cause??.

Posted by Babs at 1:18 PM | Permalink | Comments (7) | TrackBacks (0)

Is it just me being really pernickety or do other people hate this too. A lot of my friends who would be somewhat pretentious but who like to be seen to be ?keeping it real? have decided to turn their backs on their roots and to start using words that I would consider to be predominantly American such as ?awesome? and also ?Mom? or ?Mommy?. I can?t even handle the ?mum? thing. Most Irish people do NOT call their mothers ?Mummy? or ?Mommy? so why then when they hit fifteen does the ?Mam? turn into ?Mum? or ?Mom?. I think that its peer pressure, using words like these make people appear to be more refined (or so they think). It?s a farce as well cause when they are actually speaking to their mother they will call her ?Mam? but then to their apparently ?cool as fuck? mates its ?oh my Mum / Mom says blah blah? how sad and needy are these people? I can make exceptions when the mother in question is ACTUALLY from somewhere that uses ?Mum? as the word for mother but other than that it?s terrible. Also back to this ?awesome? thing, when did Irish people start top use this word, seriously, its getting to be beyond a joke, people who I thought were not so easily influenced actually are!! Its like some sort of a phenomenon (or something!) Anyway it?s really annoying. So I say ?Say NO to Awesomers!!!?

Posted by Babs at 10:55 AM | Permalink | Comments (7) | TrackBacks (0)

...Of the weekend spent mostly at my parents, chilling out, eating good home-cooked Mammy food and watching tv, spending much-needed time with my lovely girlfriend and generally hanging out, chilling, and the occasional building of a flat-pack desk from Atlantic Homecare (although that was fun let me tell you), was a moment on the Jonathan Ross show on Friday, when Elijah Wood was on. He was talking about his new film Happy Feet where he plays a little penguin.

Anyhoo, Jonathan Ross said "Walrus". It was brilliant.

Posted by Matt at 11:46 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Definition of Work

"Nothing is really work unless you would rather do something else."

Sir James M. Barrie

(Courtesy of my lovely friend Su Bleu)

Posted by Babs at 3:57 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

...I wish they'd use stronger glue to stick the poppy-seeds to poppy-seed bagels, my keyboard has enough poppy-seeds in it to make half a pound of smack
feed a small army of sparrows
make a delicious poppy-seed cake
make cleaning it an absolute frickin' nightmare.

Does anyone know where I can get an extremely small Hoover?

Posted by Matt at 7:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (9) | TrackBacks (0)

I'm doing a Advanced Certificate in Management Practices at the moment, amongst other things. It is mainly taught by Arthur McKeown, a man who, amongst other things, has been a lighthouse keeper, taught English as a foreign language in Libya, and taught the Certificate I'm doing (of course).

In talking about presentations today, he remarked:

All Power corrupts,
Powerpoint corrupts absolutely

Which I thought was absolutely brilliant. :-)

Posted by Matt at 4:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBacks (0)

So like, Yahoo! have decided that creating a personalized "sign-in seal" will prevent you from being phished, scammed and spammed. They might be right, but by leaving users open to create their own personal message to themselves when they sign in has left Yahoo! rife for a bit of piss-taking by smarty-pants people like myself, as seen in the picture below.

Posted by Matt at 12:05 AM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

Don't you just hate it when:

The milk you bought the day before yesterday has the same use-by date as the milk you bought the week before last, namely three days ago, 1-Sep-06.

Fuck Spar, the non-milk-date-checking bastards.

Posted by Matt at 10:43 AM | Permalink | Comments (21) | TrackBacks (0)

Up in Andys, having a chat, after work. Nice and chilled.

Idly chatting about all kinds of crap, the fantasticness of the festival on the weekend, Andy having to work all weekend and him being teeny tad pissed off and full of coldy stuffy horribleness after getting lashed on at Daft Punk on Friday night, only seeing a couple of things over the weekend, I was all "Trans Global Underground was cool, and the Disco Brasil thing was really deadly, I was really pissed (ow my head when I got up this morning)" yadda blah etc. Ant and Dec's "Northern Rock All* Star Cup" celebrity golf thingy is on TV.

Alice Cooper is playing well (he plays almost every day, you know), Meatloaf's not bad either. Alice Cooper. Meatloaf. Golf. Weird.

Do you reckon the Devil plays gold? I reckon he does. If Alice does, I reckon old Nick pulls on his plus-fours and the old argyle geansaí every so often for an auld front nine before lunch. Probably does.

That's probably all that's on on TV in hell, The Devil, playing golf, all day, every day.

Not in golfer's hell, obviously.

Me and Andy talk about some weird shit.

Posted by Matt at 9:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (6) | TrackBacks (0)

Well, there goes the summer. Although Autumn officially started in Ireland two weeks ago (according to Wikipedia and the Irish Calendar), I hope to God The Flying Spaghetti Monster that this isn't the end of the sunshine and warmth I've grown so used to over the past month or two. Just in case though, I would advise Adrian and Annie to bring their waterproofs when they come over for the FOWC in a couple of weeks. Similarily I would advise Nat and Ian to bring their wellies and jackets when they visit Dublin (whenever that may be), even (nay especially) if the weather forecast says the weather will be amazing.

It has been an abnormally err... summery... summer, but the misery that is evident when I look out my office window kinda gets me down a wee bit and makes me forget just how great Global Warming has been to us this summer*. Even though I know it's great for the plants and crops and flowers and trees and all that (which is like, great, an' all), it still makes me yearn for blue skies and sunshine. And above all, less wetness. I think Global Warming means more rain when it does rain too, though (Wikipedia didn't help a lot on this one)?

I suppose I should be happy that I have a window, really.

</whinge>

_{[*note: Global Warming is BAD]}

Posted by Matt at 4:56 PM | Permalink | Comments (8) | TrackBacks (0)

Apparently so, yes I know it is the coolest name in the world, but there is a BAND?? In Finland, I found these by accident the other night while hanging out with my friend Suzi Blue (*not her real name ? the Blue bit) anyway she had asked me over to her apartment to sing for her (yes I know, weird you may say but this is what was happening) she is in a band and heard me drunkenly warbling on Saturday at the BBQ in my house, and thought that I sounded lovely so I went over and drank red wine and was merry and sang, so we were kind of drunk and decided that we were forming a band, and were like ?what will we call the band!?? so we decided on Verso and found these dudes, some Finnish type metallers, they seem to be very Finnish, I am amazed, so we couldn?t use that so we decided on The Heroes, and as you can guess there was a band called that too, so what will we do?? Ideas on a postcard please!

So yeah a band called Verso, what were the chances??

Posted by Babs at 10:57 AM | Permalink | Comments (10) | TrackBacks (0)

In work, I mean. Why is it, that on an absolutely beautiful day like today, with not a cloud in the sky, nary a hint of a breeze in the air, and the sun high overhead beating down outside, that I should have to be inside, looking at a computer screen, glancing longingly out the window every so often, thinking how wonderful it would be to be lying down with a book in my hand and a towel on my head, or splashing in the sea which is just visible from my office? Why, exactly, do we have to work when it's plain to see that it would be far better for our overall productivity and mental health so be outside turning ourselves a slightly darker hue and sipping on cold refreshing beverages, occasionally indulging ourselves with a dip in the salty water, only retreating indoors to escape from the far-too-hotness?

I call on all my readers to down mouses and pens, walk outside into the sunshine and declare that it is our divinely-given right to spend time in the sun on one of the few days of the year when it's actually worth doing so! I mean, I don't mind staying inside when it's fucking miserable outside, but please, when it's beautiful, at least let us enjoy it! Please? We can call it the REVOLUTION OF THE SUN, or something equally grand.

Maybe it's just the heat getting to me.

Posted by Matt at 11:06 AM | Permalink | Comments (9) | TrackBacks (0)

Somehow, my petrol tank is getting bigger. I've noticed this in the past six months or so. When I got the car, about three or four years ago, I could fill the tank with about ?35 worth of petrol, now somehow the tank has expanded so it now holds ?50 worth of petrol when full. I can't quite get my head around it...

Posted by Matt at 10:29 PM | Permalink | Comments (20) | TrackBacks (0)

Hmmm. When I opened my Gmail this morning I got an interesting surprise. Gmail isn't Gmail anymore (it's still beta though?), it's now Google Mail. What's all that about? Wasn't it Google Mail to begin with, a couple of years ago? And then it was Gmail. And now it's Google Mail again.

I do wish those Googlers would ever make up their mind.

Posted by Matt at 9:34 AM | Permalink | Comments (12) | TrackBacks (0)

I met, and talked to, approximately 12 people that I knew, before 11am this morning. These people can be divided into two groups:

1. The ones who didn't tell me I had Marmite on my face, and
2. the ones who did tell me I had Marmite on my face.

I much prefer the second (much smaller, as in one person) group. They are nice.

Question: If you saw someone you knew, in work (or in a café, or shop even), with Marmite (or other condiment) on their face, would you:

1. Tell them, or
2. Not?

Posted by Matt at 11:49 AM | Permalink | Comments (11) | TrackBacks (0)

The Vagina Monologues is on in the theatre tonight, and the pre-show house music sounds eerily similar to the opening theme from 'Stargate SG-1', which must be really weird for any Stargate fans in the audience.

_{*see Urban Dictionary definition}

Posted by Matt at 7:56 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

It's 24° outside and humid, there's hardly a breath of wind and whenever I go outside I look like someone who's been jogging for an hour, but I've been sitting down. There's no air-con in the office and all the fans have been pilfered while I was on holiday. I have an overwhelming urge that I'm trying hard to quell to go and get a coffee. I'm a little pissed off really, as it appears to be hotter here than it was last week off the coast of Morocco. Ah well, there's no swimming pool here though...

Posted by Matt at 3:07 PM | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBacks (0)

...That a Finnish Glam-Death-Metal band dressed as zombie demons would win the Eurovision Song Contest. I'm still slightly in shock.

*Not that I actually watched the contest or anything, I just tuned in for the last 5 minutes of voting. I swear. I was working tonight, so I have a legitimate alibi.

Posted by Matt at 11:07 PM | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBacks (0)

There's one of those digital signs near where I live that tells you how fast your going as you approach it. You know the ones, with like, "Speed Limit: 50km/h" and "Your Speed: XX", with your speed where the X's are? When I pass it, it always tells me I'm going a lot slower than I think I am. So when my speedometer says I'm doing about 60 km/h, the sign says "52" or something. And it only flashes when you go above 55.*

So therefore, by my reasoning, the sign seems to be telling me that it's ok to do 60. Am I wrong?

*I can also make the sign flash "69" whenever I want. But I probably shouldn't share that with the entire world.

Posted by Matt at 11:37 PM | Permalink | Comments (7) | TrackBacks (0)

After four or five months delay, after a small move in January, after Nikki living in spider-infested, at times freezing cold, temporary accomodation, and after spending the last few months looking at couches, tv's, coffee machines and crockery, we finally got completion notice on our new house.

Well, I say completion notice, but of course I really mean 'snagging notice', in that they told us we could now come in to find every little niggley thing that's wrong with the place, tell them about the snags, and get them to fix them. Hopefully, seeing as they've now built quite a few places in the development, they'll have gotten the hang of it by now andf won't have fucked up too much. But judging by Seamus's 5-week snagging ordeal, and the fact that his place is only two doors down from ours, I'm being cautiously optimistic.

In the meantime, Nikki has to move from her temporary accomodation to yet another temporary place, this time a two-bedroom apartment in Monkstown. And this time I'm moving with her. I figure it's a good way of packing all my stuff up and sorting it out, before moving it permanently into an actual home. But then I also realise it means I'm going to move house twice in the next month. Oh well, I'm sure there'll be plenty of fun to be had. :-)

In other news, I have been invited by the Argentinian Ambassador to Ireland and The Captain of the flagship of the Irish Naval Fleet to a reception on said flagship, the L.E. Eithne, next Thursday. This is due to Nikki's dad being a Commodore in the Irish Navy, and this will be the first such Naval reception-thingy I will have been to. There's nothing on the invitation about a dress code though, so I'm going to go wearing bermuda shorts and a hawaiian shirt. And wellies.

Posted by Matt at 1:28 PM | Permalink | Comments (20) | TrackBacks (0)

You've got a cutlery drawer, with four 'slots', for knives, forks, spoons and teaspoons.

Where do the chopsticks go?

Posted by Matt at 7:40 PM | Permalink | Comments (13) | TrackBacks (0)

So today I learned how to lift a box. Or 'Manual Handling Of Loads' as it is known amongst health & safety jargonists. How to lift things properly. Now, I've been working as a stage hand and lighting technician and sound technician for ooh, about fourteen years now, and I kinda know all there is to know about lifting all sorts of stage production-related 'gear' (lights, speakers, flight cases, mixing desks, I could go on...), but I was pretty sure there must be something I don't know, which is why I was doing the course. And then the tutor very spent all morning teaching us how to lift an empty cardboard box. Using a 'wide palmer grip', and a trolley. And then he gave us all certificates.

Posted by Matt at 3:23 PM | Permalink | Comments (13) | TrackBacks (0)

Hmmm.

I've spent several minutes (or perhaps at least an hour) in the past few weeks thinking of something entertaining to blog. Something interesting, or at least something I find interesting. I just came to the realisation that it's not about that, this thing called blogging. It's about... 'whatever'. Whatever I want. Whatever happened, or will happen, or something I saw or did or thought or experienced, anything at all. I am, after all, pretty new to this whole thing, and thought I've been doing pretty well on the content front, but seeing as I only started doing this to see what it's like, I've found that it's like... I dunno.

So I'm going to share a couple of observations and things that happened recently.

Last Saturday, after a night spent playing poker, I got a phone call while still in bed, from my little sister Sarah (aka 'Babs', regular commenter on this here site) saying she'd locked herself out of her room in her house, and was greatly in need of some 'big brother' (no, not that Big Brother) -style help. So I got out of bed, discovered to my horror that not a drop of hot water could be squeezed out of the shower, put on clothes, hat, and shades, got into my car, and drove like you can only drive with a bit of a hangover on you (that's very slowly, and very inconspicuously) over to her place (20 mins drive).

Posted by Matt at 7:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (23) | TrackBacks (0)