QuoteGot a nasty lingering cold. I'm looking for your remedies, no matter how unscientific they may be.
Merry Christmas.
Got a nasty lingering cold. I'm looking for your remedies, no matter how unscientific they may be.
I just can't think of any Londonderry puns but my intentions are good.Originally Posted by thischarmingman
Left house in London at 6:45am yesterday, arrived home at 11:05 last night. Took best part of 6 hours to get from Dublin to Derry. But I'm home, which is the important thing
Welcome home.
Nobody knows us, we don't care
You need this,specifically:
Supermac's sausages; ye never order them, but they're feckin lovely.
Ugh. Heartburn city. Wonder was it the Malibu and Orange or the beers or the Mojitos or the rest of the Malibu and Orange that is to blame? Think it must be the crisps myself.
Listened to the "best bits" of the Gerry Ryan show this morning. Whatever your feelings on the man, its all very sad. A great broadcaster who is irreplaceable on the radio. Many a lazy morning in college was spent listening to his show, he is sorely missed.
I was working in a warehouse about 15 years ago as a summer job. We were putting always stuff into boxes, or taking stuff out of boxes at one particular spot every morning, and Gerry Ryan's show was playing on the radio provided for our diversion. We'd all been there at least a month before one of us mentioned that they couldn't stand his show, and then one after the other, all of us (maybe 6 people in total) revealed exactly the same thing, which we'd previously kept secret because we assumed that everybody else loved listening to him.
I was flicking stations this morning when I unexpectedly came upon Gerry's voice roaring out out of the radio and he was talking about... ghosts.
Surreal moment.
Nobody knows us, we don't care
Not preaching here, but St. Anthony, what a guy. Lost a few things in a cramped house over Christmas, said a quick prayer and found missing items within a few minutes!
'Fascists dress in black and go round telling people what to do, where as priests.....'
I usually say "Jesus was lost Jesus was found" coz my granny swore by it and it seems to work but I think that is mainly coz I relax my mind by repeating it and rem where to look.
I find that offering the still-beating heart of a small orphan child to Cthulu usually works. That or searching a bit more thoroughly. A house isn't really all that large a space to lose something in, and orphans aren't two a penny any more.
You can't spell failure without FAI
Now John, it all depends on the desperation of the searcher. You may recall my infamous passport hunt where it was in literally the last place available to look (as opposed to the obvious last place I looked).
Check out my new sports blog http://www.action81.com
The local orphan shortage is an embarrassment in a modern country where you would expect all luxury items to be readily available, never mind the basic essentials. It is as bad as the water shortages. No wonder people are taking trips abroad to get them now. Personally I have started to make them myself: a messy and time consuming business, worse than trying to make your own salt! You would think that an enterprising person with an eye on the market would surely make a killing going into business supplying them, but perhaps that is why Ireland is in the state it is today.
That question was less stupid, though you asked it in a profoundly stupid way.
Help me, Arthur Murphy, you're my only hope!
Quality reference. I used to (actually, still do) love H. P. Lovecraft's stories. Even the pictures on the front covers had me gripped as a child.
On a different note, I'm going to start Mad Men Season 1 tonight.
One my favourite pieces of writing ever in the English language.
(Mods, hope this isn't any copyright issue - apologies if it is)After the Christmas thing
was over, the goddam picture started. It was so putrid I couldn't take
my eyes off it. It was about this English guy, Alec something, that was in
the war and loses his memory in the hospital and all. He comes out of the
hospital carrying a cane and limping all over the place, all over London,
not knowing who the hell he is. He's really a duke, but he doesn't know it.
Then he meets this nice, homey, sincere girl getting on a bus. Her goddam
hat blows off and he catches it, and then they go upstairs and sit down and
start talking about Charles Dickens. He's both their favorite author and
all. He's carrying this copy of Oliver Twist and so's she. I could've puked.
Anyway, they fell in love right away, on account of they're both so nuts
about Charles Dickens and all, and he helps her run her publishing business.
She's a publisher, the girl. Only, she's not doing so hot, because her
brother's a drunkard and he spends all their dough. He's a very bitter guy,
the brother, because he was a doctor in the war and now he can't operate any
more because his nerves are shot, so he boozes all the time, but he's pretty
witty and all. Anyway, old Alec writes a book, and this girl publishes it,
and they both make a hatful of dough on it. They're all set to get married
when this other girl, old Marcia, shows up. Marcia was Alec's fiancйe before
he lost his memory, and she recognizes him when he's in this store
autographing books. She tells old Alec he's really a duke and all, but he
doesn't believe her and doesn't want to go with her to visit his mother and
all. His mother's blind as a bat. But the other girl, the homey one, makes
him go. She's very noble and all. So he goes. But he still doesn't get his
memory back, even when his great Dane jumps all over him and his mother
sticks her fingers all over his face and brings him this teddy bear he used
to slobber around with when he was a kid. But then, one day, some kids are
playing cricket on the lawn and he gets smacked in the head with a cricket
ball. Then right away he gets his goddam memory back and he goes in and
kisses his mother on the forehead and all. Then he starts being a regular
duke again, and he forgets all about the homey babe that has the publishing
business. I'd tell you the rest of the story, but I might puke if I did. It
isn't that I'd spoil it for you or anything. There isn't anything to spoil
for Chrissake. Anyway, it ends up with Alec and the homey babe getting
married, and the brother that's a drunkard gets his nerves back and operates
on Alec's mother so she can see again, and then the drunken brother and old
Marcia go for each other. It ends up with everybody at this long dinner
table laughing their asses off because the great Dane comes in with a bunch
of puppies. Everybody thought it was a male, I suppose, or some goddam
thing. All I can say is, don't see it if you don't want to puke all over
yourself.
Fed up of falling in love with guys who don't love me back.2011 better get better.
Some really good journalistic cliches here:
http://www.independent.ie/sport/othe...s-2480934.html
6 If Alex Ferguson is ranting and raving and slagging off the opposition and the referee, he is playing 'mind games,' as part of a cunning master plan. If Arsene Wenger is ranting and raving and slagging off the opposition and the referee, he has 'lost the plot' and proved that he is a whiny foreigner who will never win anything.
18 Asian players are only there for the purpose of shirt sales.
23 The death of anyone puts sport 'into perspective'.
25 Everyone in Ireland is filled with delight when some millionaire's horse wins in Cheltenham.
36 2-0 is the most dangerous lead in football. Which should mean that a team should be delighted to get pegged back to 2-1, but doesn't somehow.
39 Features should conclude with a short ominous sentence. 'He does now.' 'It is his.' 'A man alone,' 'Love me tender,' 'Stairway to Heaven,' something like that.
48 The African teams in the World Cup are 'defensively naive'.
I suppose it begs the question, exactly how absent minded are Angelina Jolie and Madonna!!!!!!!
"Where's the remote. Best acquire an orphan to solve this one"
"Where's the car keys....... Damn......... Hi, Is that Orphans R US?????"
Quoting years at random since 1975
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