Story!

I've been threatening to do this for a while now... Hmmm, wasn't ready for feeling so self conscious though. I'm becoming paranoid about my spelling. And I know that the syntax millitia are going to be combing this. Fear..welling up... And breathe out. I just want to bitch.

If nothing else, my grievances will be structured: here is a numbered list of my gripes:

1. The warped version of Murphy's Law that seems to apply to my life: no matter how well (or badly) I think I'm doing, things will go ahead and turn out whatever damn way they want to.
It's like the feeling of typing in your student number (or something) only to look up and realize that num lock was off. Actually, a better way to describe it is as a jinx. You arrive at the conclusion that a situation is xyz, and you can be sure (if only from your own certainty) that the situation is anything but xyz.

2. Shitistics.
"There are lies, damned lies and statistics."
Disraeli was onto something...

3. The Token Women on 'The Panel'. I love 'The Panel' and I love women, but seriously... Anna Nolan??? Giving women spots on the show based on the fact that they have ovaries is retarded, much less politically correct. It's demeaning. None of them are funny, they insist on telling these anecdotes (which usually go nowhere), are nice to the guests and act all offended if one of their male counter parts says something risque(funny). Bints.

4. Bebo moving from the traditional alphabetical arrangement of friends to 'random, but you can sort them out yourself if you really want to'. No thanks, you used to do that for me. This 'Luv' is becoming a bit of a burden aswell. There are people odd at me because I haven't 'luv'ed them yet.

5. Emergency Tax. Emergency??? There'll be an emergency if Pizza Hut don't give me my motherfucking P45. Oooh, cursing on blogger? Can I?
Also, they spray on a foam to create the 'freshly baked' gold colour on the crusts. Of course the dough itself has been soaked in soy oil and rising agents over-night anyway so don't worry yourself unduly about the foam. Quite frankly, the use of bleach and work-top degreasing chemicals to clean the inside nozzles of the ice-cream machine is probably the most unsettling of all....

6. Living at home. Dose.

7. Which leads me nicely onto the deathtrap of a car I (struggle to) drive. The brakes went in the middle of a busy junction last Friday (apparently due to a cracked wire to the distributer and the fuel pump..). If not for the handbrake I'd be writing this from the beyond (I'd probably have posessed someone...what a laugh.. you could go see people naked and stuff..). But where was I? Oh ya, so, a little shaken, I ring my father the mechanic. Do you know what he said? "Dose."

8. The C.E.C., (Cork Enterprise Centre). It's like C.I.T. (pipes running along the ceiling, glaring white-wash type walls...) and faaaaaaaaaar awaaaaaaaaay from all my non psych friends, who I just KNOW are laughing it up in the Old Bar.

9. Eoin pointing out the fact that Lilly Allen's 'Smile' and whoever sings 'Stars in their Eyes' are basically the same song. I've tried explaining it to people and they just think I'm inbred or something. Possibly because I can't articulate it.. Please feel free to do so below.

10. My circadian rhythms. Teenagers and young adults perform (cognitively) better when they stay up like rillllly rillly rilly late at night and sleep in rillly rilly rilly late in the day. Brilliant for late night rants, not so beautiful for college attendance.


My GOD that felt good! I feel so liberated... I may go burn my bra... (Not really, it's one of the nice ones from Dunnes).