Thursday 27 August 2015

Lies Your Parents Told You


Growing up I was always encouraged by my parent not to lie.  All kids’ lie a little bit or exaggerates the truth with their imaginations (kind of like what men still do today).  The one thing a kid never expects is for their parents to lie to them.  The lies my parents told me were far worse than any lie I ever told them.  For example, my lies where more disguisers of the truth, me not telling them I was out on the street at 13 years old pissed off my face was not knowledge that they needed to know.  Their lies on the other hand pretty much scarred me for life.

 

The biggest and most treacherous of lies was the myth of Santa Clause.  To this day I have never forgiven them for this one.  This lie presented me with three different feelings;

Happiness – there was a jolly man who came to visit the house once a year and dished out free toys to all of the good kids.
Fear – there was a big fat man who broke into my house every year and ate all of my cookies and drunk all of my milk.

Having a conscience about things I did – I was always told that only well behave kids got toys and all of the bad ones on the ‘naughty list’ were given a lump of coal.  I seemed to be on the naught list a lot during the year because I was a very stubborn kid and always loved an argument.  Mum and dad obviously saw that presenting me with a lump of coal for Christmas might not startle me too much so they went in with the big guns for their next threat.  All bad children will have to go to midnight mass on Christmas Eve....they got me, they got me good!



 

There was nothing I hated more in my life than going to church, never mind having to go so late at night at the age I was.  I fell asleep all of the time and mum had to keep waking me, surely this was as much of a punishment for her as it was for me? 

 

The year I found out that there was no Santa I was about 8 and we were playing hide and go seek.  I went to hide in my parent’s wardrobe and there were all my presents. 

 

The next lie was the monsters in the closet.  Most kids are scared of monsters in their closets but it was never really something we were scared of as kids, my sister and I shared a room so we always had each other.  As we shared a room we were always up and about and one way dad would get us back into bed was by telling us there was a monster in the closet that would come for us if we weren’t sleeping.  Needless to say we pretty much shit out pants with the thought of that, our dad was warning his precious daughters of this awful monster and how to avoid it. 

 

Around this age my dad let us watch a lot of horror movies.  I remember we were very young when we watched A Nightmare on Elm Street; we rented the VHS from the movie shop.  When we needed a bathroom break during the film dad would pause it and my sister and I would run up the stairs to the loo.  Dad being dad he would shout up after us ‘Watch out Freddy doesn’t get you’.  Naturally we then would call mum up to the top of the stairs so that she could watch out for Freddy in case he did come for us.

 

When I realised there were no real monsters a while later I used this to my advantage.  One night dad let us watch Poltergeist (I really have to question his parenting skills) and my sister was terrified of the clown so I used this on her one night.  We went to bed and she was most likely bulling me so I told her I seen the clown under her bed.  Scared as anything she jumped into her bed and hid under the covers but she is older and should know better so I take no responsibility for this.  For a long time after telling her this she would always take a run and jump into bed in case the clown got her.  I also told her that Jaws lived under her bed and she believed that too (she won’t admit that now).



 

 

 

 

 

 

Wednesday 26 August 2015

Funny Gets Fanny


Recently I went to see our local brilliant comedian Paddy Kielty and he said something that I thought was absolutely brilliant.  He said ‘funny gets fanny’.  No truer word has ever been spoken, well in my opinion anyway.

 

I thought back to anyone I had ever went out with and you know what, they were all funny guys, not bad to look at too mind you.  There must be something built into us girls (yes I’m 32 and still call myself a girl!) where we automatically find a guy more attractive because he make us laugh and rightly so.  You don’t want to spend the rest of your days with a muscle man with a tan if he’s gonna basically bore the tits off you now are you? 

 

Men like that are all good and well to look at (we are all allowed to have a wee look) but you don’t want to be stuck in a room with them for too long.  I’m not saying all muscle guys are boring, I’m just using it as an example. 

 

There is something about a guy that is funny and not afraid to make a complete twat out of himself in front of everyone.  It just shows the world that he just doesn’t give a fuck what anyone else thinks about him and to me that is a great weird masculine way to show off. 

 

So, then I asked myself if it works the other way around?  Do men like funny women?  Some guys I know think that women actually aren’t funny.  I beg to differ because I myself am hilarious, well I think so.  A lot of girls from my generation are scared to try and be funny in case it puts guys off.  They think they will look stupid and goofy or they will seem too outspoken and dominant.....daft. 

 

Men are strange creatures anyway but ladies if you are lucky enough to bag yourself a funny one then you are on to a winner!

 

What do you think?


Friday 21 August 2015

What Comes First? The Dog or the Kid? (21 August 2015)


As I have discussed before, I don’t have kids and I have no urge yet in my life to have them.  I’m a 32 year big child that just loves her doggies (is it bad that I almost wrote dogging there? HAHA). 

 

I’m always ask (I think they do it to annoy me) that IF I have a child what I’m going to do with my dog?  Now I don’t know what planet these people live on but to me my dog is like my child.  I do everything with him, feed him, walk him, play with him and tuck him in a night.  I’m not one of those over the top ones that dresses him up; he’s so big my clothes would fit him for goodness sake.  I did dress up my old boxer one year for Halloween and put a few hoodies on her but she loved it.

 

Anyway back to the story.  After much questioning of ‘What do you mean? What would I do with him?’.  He wouldn’t be treated any differently; he was there first so nothing would change for him.  So once we moved passed that part the next question they ask is ‘What would you do if the dog didn’t like the baby, would you make him live outside or put him in a cage?’

 

You can guess my answer ‘Fuck No!’

 

The next part of the answer is always my favourite because the expression on some people’s faces is just far too funny (this is a joke by the way; I’m not that much of a hard nut).

 

Would I put the dog in a cage? ‘No!  If the baby and the dog didn’t get on then the baby and its mosses basket can go into a cage in the kitchen’.  After the horror comes over their face I continue.  ‘That will be handy too because if the baby cries then I can just cover the cage up with a blanket just like my sister does with her parrot when he gets really noisy’. 

 

People in work have now realised that I’m joking when I say these things and they laugh, but the first few times of giving my answer had them questioning my mentality for a while I think.  You could see the wheels turning in their heads trying to figure it all out.  Little amuses the innocent!

 

Clumsy Ginger Theory (21 August 2015)


I call this a theory but I should just call it fact, I have witnessed so much of this that it has to be fact.

 

Gingers are clumsy!  How do I know....well......

 

My mum is a red head.  Her ginger clumsiness started to affect me while I was still in the womb.  My mum is 5ft 1 and she did nothing but eat and eat when she was pregnant with me (he fault completely of course) so I grew to be huge in there.  I became so big that she got a little unsteady on her feet and she fell.  For me as a witness this started a long line of clumsy things that my mum has done from falling all the time to continuously dropping things.  Not enough evidence you say?

 

Next we have my friend; we have been friends from our young school days so this is a good 20 years now.  She has a lot of trouble staying off the ground, her ankles must be like glass now because she is constantly going over on them and falling.  There are too many funny ones to tell of here, I would need to dedicate a whole section to her (which I just might because her falls are way too funny).

 

Another one on the ginger list is my mother in law.  This woman cannot stay on her feet either, everywhere we go she either falls or falls into me to break her fall.  One instance was I left her off at her house after a day out and I looked in my mirror as I drove off and she had walked up 2 steps that lead to her house but it seems she couldn’t tackle them because when I looked she was sprawled flat on her face on the steps.  Did I stop and go back and help her? No I did not, she is a professional faller, and she knows more about this stuff than I do.


 

Last but not least is me, now I’m not a redhead but I seem to have inherited a few traits from my mum.  I got some freckles and light colouring so I’m blaming her for that.  I’m not really a faller but I’m a dropper.  I can’t carry much at any one time, people sending me to the bar for a round is like my biggest fear because I know it’s gonna end up disastrous.  I just usually send someone up with some money so that I don’t have to do it.

 

So as far as my evidence goes it’s pretty much a given that gingers are clumsy or even people that are unfortunate enough to have the ginger gene.

 

Am I wrong?

 

Joggers and Sex Faces (21 August 2015)


Since the summer is here (don’t know if that’s what you could call it in Ireland) there have been a lot of joggers out and about.  I mainly notice them when I’m out walking the dog and the most awful thing happened to me a few weeks ago when I was out. 

 

I’m normally a very observant person; I notice the strangest things that most people would never even think about in their lives.  Anyway, a jogger passed me and he was one of those joggers that runs with his tongue.  In other words he had to stick his tongue out slightly to concentrate, like those weird drivers that need to ‘use’ their tongue when they are parallel parking.  The thought had never occurred to me before but it did today, the first thought that popped into my head is ‘I wonder if that is his sex face?’ 

 

There was so much concentration on his wee face and he was out of puff and it all just blended into this one disturbing thought.  Then I felt bad for his wife if it was his sex face because she must piss herself laughing if it is.  Now guys you might be all sexy and all beforehand but during sex there is usually a reason why we close our eye.  Many women may not have even noticed this yet but you will now.  I think if you naturally close your eyes then it is your subconscious telling you not to look or your gonna laugh.

When I Grow Up I Want to be...... (21 August 2015)





For a lot of people life is a given.  Most people know what it is they want to do with their lives.  The rest of us just sit and daydream throughout our day wondering what is it we are supposed to do.


For me, I have no clue, I'm a dabbler.  My skills have a more arty range but I'm not an expert in any other them.  Examples:  I started learning the piano at 7 and I took to it really well, like most musical instrument that you set in front of me I pick it up pretty quick.  Between the age of 7 and 15 I had learned the piano, cornet, flute, tuba and the drums, all of which I don't play anymore but could if I wanted. 
Another example is art, I'm more of a sketcher and like drawing cartoons.  In high school this did not go down well with me art teacher, he thought cartoons were a waste of time.  Needless to say we got into an argument which resulted in me storming out of his class (never to return) shouting 'do you know who the fuck Walt Disney is?'. 
Example number 3 is photography, I love taking pictures and I have millions of them, especially of my dogs.  I take pictures everywhere I go (I'm one of those annoying people).  I studied photography for 3 years as part of a media course but again I never went any further with it. 
My final example is writing and as you can see I'm not very good at it but its something that helps be de-stress and one day I would like to took back at my stories and remember what was going on in my head at the age I am.  Girls, have you ever read back through an old diary and thought 'what the fuck was I thinking?', thought so.
I think back to when I was a kid and the teacher used to make you write a story of what you wanted to be one day.  I think when I was a kid I wasn't sure then either, I had a multitude of options that went through my tiny head.  The first one I remember was I wanted to be a vet because I loved animals, but I couldn't do that now because the thought of stitching an animal up or it dying on my operating table would be kill me. 
Option number two I think was a cowboy, I was a kid so I have no explanation.  I do have a horse and ride about like a cowboy so I guess I fulfilled that one.
Option 3 was a soldier, I was a crack shot with a gun (not a real one obviously).  I could hit any target moving or stationary.  I did join the army cadets for a while but it turns out I have huge problem with authority figures that are complete assholes and kept keep myself from confronting them ( I still have this problem today).  My natural instinct to stand up for myself and be bold would keep me out of the army.
So here I am, stuck in this job where I am unhappy and never stop complaining about but the people are nice, that's the only thing keeping me here for now.  What do I think I want to be now?  None of these are related in anyway but here we go....A rally driver sounds good to me, I love to fly about in a fast car.  A stand up comedian, but an improve one, my comedy only comes from those who are around me.  I've been told I'm a cross between Amy Schumer and Jack Dee, a bit of an odd combo but what can you do.  If I got paid to travel I would happily do that too, I love to travel as much as possible to see all the beautiful places that aren't exactly Ireland.  Or if a wine tasting job was going.....



How can I know what I want to be when it never actually feels like I have grown up?

Talking LOUD on the Phone! (21 August 2015)


I know I have ended up using this blog to vent my frustrations about most of the stuff that annoys me.  Why you ask? Usually I write this while I’m in work and if you have read any of my blog you will know that I’m not exactly ecstatic about my job.

 

Outside of work I promise I’m quite a happy person, very laid back and nothing really gets me down.  In here though, stuck in an office all day, it’s like a fish bowl.

 

I’m sitting here at the minute with my headphones on listening to music, rock music at the minute at that and I can still hear a certain someone on the phone.  This someone is one of those people that think that because you are talking to someone on the phone you have to talk REALLY LOUD!

 

Now my granny was one of these people that shouted down the phone because when she was young she never had a phone.  When it came time for her to use one she didn’t quite understand the workings of them so she yelled as if the person was miles away.  As a child I found this very amusing and of course we would make fun of her.

 

When you are stuck in a small room 8 hours a day trying to concentrate on your work (I do that on occasion) you can’t even hear yourself think most of the time.  I’m a finance person (for my sins, I must have been a real turd in a past life to deserve this, wonder what I did?) so I need to concentrate or I’m basically gonna fuck things up, end of!

 

Why these people insist on talking so loud is beyond me.  It aggravates not just me but the people around me and watching their faces screw up more and more as the conversation goes on and they look as if they are about to explode is the only little satisfaction I get from the situation.  Knowing I’m not alone in my frustration is the only thing stopping me from standing up and shouting ‘Shut the fuck up’ across the room.  I’m a nice person so I would have to add in a bit of comedy value to it too of course. 

Thursday 20 August 2015

Beardtopia (20 August 2015)

Beards! Beards everywhere!!!








Every time I turn my head some other man has grown a big fuck off busy beard!  Now, don't get me wrong, a bead can be very sexy on a guy if its kept under control even a little bit.  It seems to be the latest 'man fashion' craze sweeping the nation, maybe its not a bad thing, I'm not really the type for completely clean shaved anyway. 











The one thing that scares the life out of me is the ones that take it too far, the ones that think its still sexy to look like Grizzly Adams!  When men's beards start to get to long I'm always sucked back into my child hood when the teacher would read 'The Twits' to us in school.  I look at these bushy bearded men and just think of Mr. Twit and how there is probably food lodged away in their bead and the possibility of a wee bird living in there!












Men take note, your beards are sexy but don't forget to fucking wash them because the last thing we want to find on an intimate night is a midnight snack stuck in there......actually that might not be such a bad idea after all! :)