On my usual walk to work I encounter a considerable number of those free-newspaper-giver-outers[1] And all of them annoy me. Apart from the one I always take the Metro from. I always get it from the same guy[2] in the general vicinity of The Spike[3] And I usually carry it in my hand for the rest of my journey. So it is obvious to all that I have a bloody paper[4] Yet still, they stand in my[5] way with the bloody free papers, or even worse stick them out in front of me[6] as I go by.
But, whatever! I can deal[7] with that, although I did prefer that week, or was it two, when they reduced numbers and just left loads of the basket thingies around. Anway, that is beside the point.
This week there were the paper-peoples[8] but also a few other randoms giving out crap[9] One of whom filled my hands with L’Oreal product. Yay, you might say, but you’d be wrong. Cause it is L’Oreal men expert. So manly the stuff itself is actually blue[10] Could it get manlier? And, as I’ve mentioned before on this blog, I is not a man. And I think that this is pretty obvious[11] So why did this depositor-of-free-stuff-you-don’t-want-and-are-trying-to-avoid go out of her way to give it to me?
And… what is to be done with it? None of the fellas I know would be bothered with that sort of product. Plus, I saw that spanner from Lost advertising it on d’telly. And if Jack, aka Matthew Fox, aka annoying-preachy-pesky-tortured-soul-who-wants-to-help-save -EVERYONE-by-controlling-them-to-within-an-inch-of-his-life recommends something then it must be the spawn of Satan. Or at the very least the left over pieces of a hatch, or polar bear. Something I want nothing to do with.
So, peoples of www-land, what can I possibly do with three whole sachets of L’Oreal Men Expert?
Spire, pointless waste of taxpayers money, work of art, giant needle, whatever you want to call it ↩
errr not literally. Or at least, if it is actually bloody I will have a much more interesting post for yall, wont I? ↩
and other peoples too, but others arent even a quarter as important as me ↩
cause then you have detour around them and their outstretched hand with takes up half the footpath. Or dodge around them as they run for the bus. I hates that. ↩
Channel-surfing does terrible things. Terrible. There you are, innocently flicking past the mindless and the horrendous that passes for entertainment, when suddenly you find yourself watching Bull-riding.
I already mentioned that recently I’ve been listening to Bill Callahan, well, lately I’ve been focusing my attentions on Diamond Dancer. I love this song,[1] I could listen to it all day long. You can also listen to it on You Tube.
The only problem is that it really does get stuck in my head and I go around humming “diamond dancer, diamond dancer” to myself. But on the pro-side, it is really great song to walk[2] to work listening to.
And although yesterday’s post may have been slightly tongue-in-cheek about how great the internet is, the truth is that wwwland can be a wonderful place. You get to meet new people, as a lecturer once put it, create new communities, that otherwise you might never do. So while there is stilla huge perve factor to a lot of the internet I think we should all realise that, like life[3] the internet is what you make it.
EDIT Forgot to mention that as part of my patent-pending taking-over-wwwland technique I have started blogging over at The Fear of God. Not a religious blog sillies, but a rugby one. You know, on account of Paul O’Connell and the documentary Reaching for Glory, set up by Gerry of UnLaoised
I know you didn’t think I’d leave you much longer without your dose of Unconscious Mutterings
Uneven ::
Wonder ::
Spider ::
Emma ::
Swing ::
Orbit ::
Flirt ::
Donation ::
Veil ::
Atmosphere ::
Tis Monday, so I’m back at work. What fun, neh? But I suppose it could be worse. I could have been working last week, so it is all good. Anyways, I hereby retract my statement accusing the highly sensitive individual of taking a break. She isn’t, it is simply a case of the voices in her head not talking to her, all clear? Good.
In other news, Carl’s RIP challenge kicks off soon. Officially on Sept 1st. I’m hoping to get involved. 4 books isn’t a huge amount, is it?
And for those of you wondering where the wedding was on, well, I bring you photos:
The view from the Church
The beach
Inside the Church
Flowers
And as I said in the comment section of my previous post there are a lot more on flickr, but you’ll have to be logged in and friended to see them.
Well, maybe not Johnny, but I am. And how is everybody doing? Two weeks of not being online all that often lead to clogged up inboxes and rss readers stuffed to the brim. I think I’ve read most posts and emails, but I skimmed some and commented on very little. Catch-up is a bitch.
Had a luvverly time off work. Did nowt for a while. Then met with the granny and the aunt for a few days. Catch up fun. Then a few more days of nothingness. Then headed up to the wilds of Donegal to a wedding. Cue drunken fun. And great food. And then back to Sligo again, to a very nice day, with sunshine and warmth and everything. And as everyone scattered to their various places I headed for the trampoline for a lie in the sun. Off the wet grass, plus it had the benefit of being extra comfy. Although I did manage to shock myself getting off. I’m just so electric.
Back in the city of Dublin now, boring food shopping and washing and whatnot to be done before starting back at work on Monday. Work. Urgg.
