tapeworm signs in cats

The final day of the week.

The day that you can stay in bed as long as you please.

The day that you can dump the kids in front of the TV and leave them there for hours.

The day that you can eat a heart-attack-inducing breakfast, safe in the knowledge that you won’t be doing anything too strenuous.

The day that you can mosey up to the shop in your pyjamas, buy 4 newspapers then go home and fall asleep on the sofa after reading just 3 articles.

The day that your family invite you round for dinner, meaning no cooking or cleaning for you.

The day that you can slip up to the pub for 4-5 pints in the afternoon, without reprimand.

The day that you can…

Hang on a sec, it’s Monday isn’t it…?

Fuck. Fuck. Bollocks. Fuck.

I’m late for work…

My son finished school last Friday and, just like every other year, his teacher gave him a mountain of old shite school work to bring home. The bag contained all sorts of crap - seasonal artwork, plasticine models, all his old copies (neatly written at the start but descending into an incoherent scribbly mess by the end), more dodgy artwork and other random pieces of 2nd class school ‘work’. I had the unfortunate pleasure of having to sit there while he took out each piece in turn and explain to me what it was. “Oh, that’s really great”, I lied. Honestly, sticking a few leaves to a piece of paper and writing your name on it hardly deserves a fucking compliment, but I did what any good father would do and gave him an overenthusiastic (bullshit) appraisal of each piece. That is, until I found this piece and laughed my fucking ass off:

 *Click for full size*

Damn, and I thought I was the funny-stuff-writing person in this house…

If we were to rank all the Irish blogs in descending order according to their readership, this blog (unfortunately) would not make the into top 10.

Would it be in the top 100?

No.

Top 1000?

Hmmm… Probably not. There is, after all, 1001 Irish Blogs (in case you didn’t know).

With this in mind, I would hazard a guess that our Finance Minister, Brian Lenihan is NOT amongst the few that frequent this hidden jewel of a website (Not like you guys, you know a good thing when you see it). Nonetheless, I feel compelled to write him a letter, outlining my thoughts regarding the imminent recession and what I feel must be done to save this country from going all 1986 on us again. Here goes:

Dear Brian,

I realise Brian, that this is not all your fault and that you’ve pretty much been thrown into the deep end here, so I would like to offer you a few suggestions on how you can turn this ship around and become the nation’s saviour:

1. Firstly, you should hire a crack team of poker professionals to play online around the clock. If one man can turn €1000 into €10,000 each month, then 1000 players would bolster the economy to the tune of €108million per annum. Best of all, that money would be (mostly) coming from players in foreign countries, thereby draining other competing economies of vital funds. Just a little added bonus.

2. Cease all road-building projects immediately. With all the good roads we now have, our car-repair industry is beginning to suffer. In the 80’s it wasn’t uncommon to bring your car to the mechanic once every two weeks to repair damage caused by hitting potholes. Scrapping all existing road projects will also save the economy in the region of €300million per annum.

3. Increase the tax on foreign goods. Unfortunately, under the current EU rules, we cannot impose just any old tax on imports, but with some clever re-structuring of the VAT system, we can further encourage people to buy Irish goods. For example, most basic foodstuffs currently have no VAT applied to them but if we were to place the likes of bananas, pineapples, etc (i.e. stuff that will never grow here in a million years) into the 21% VAT category then it would encourage people to buy more homegrown fruit like… erm… gooseberries.

4. Regulate the drug trade. There’s never been a better time to do this one because, let’s face it, it’s one of the few business models that will actually thrive in a state of depression and high unemployment. Since no-one knows the precise extent of the drugs trade in Ireland it’s hard to put a figure on how much this measure would be worth to the economy. €1billion… 2 maybe? €3billion per annum? More? Let’s just say it’s worth a fucking load, ok?

5. Tax the rich. Close every fucking tax loophole that these leeches abuse and tax the bollix off them. “What’s that you say? You’re leaving the country? Not until you pay us the €XX million you owe us in tax, you cunt“. This should be done as soon as possible, even if the economy recovers, just to sicken the fuckers.

6. And lastly, but most importantly, shut down RTE. A bigger waste of public spending there is not. €890,000 a year for that insufferable wanker Pat Kenny? I’d sooner burn the fucking money…

In summary, I think that with a little creativity and some hard work, our country can be saved from re-living the horrors of the ’80’s. Having said that, if this recession means that the price of a pint sinks back to €2.00 then I’ll happily put on my old Naff jacket and Hi-Tec trainers then go find a dirty, smoke-filled bar to hide away in for a couple of years.

Yours Truly, 

H (the Shitetalker)

Did you ever feel like putting your fist through a window?

Or snapping the neck of the next person who opened their mouth in your presence?

Or did you ever want to slam on the brakes of your car just so you could punish the asshole behind you?

Did you ever feel like breaking up everything and everyone that crossed your path in a rampage of wanton violence to satisfy your burning anger caused by a trivial frustration?

I fucking hate Mondays.

Today I’m going to let you in on a little secret. Contrary to popular belief, the greatest band of all time is not, in fact, The Beatles. Or U2 for that matter. Or the Rolling Stones, or Radiohead, or Oasis, or whatever ball of shite band that music ‘critics’ would have you believe deserves the title of the the best band ever. That honour belongs to the one and only - Rocket From The Crypt.

“Rocket From The Who?” I hear you cry… well I did say it was a secret, didn’t I? The San Diego sextet emerged from the darkness in the early 90’s, during a period when all the major record labels were in a frenzy to sign up punk/grunge bands following the phenomenal success of Nirvana. RFTC were, in the eyes of music industry moguls, the next big thing and a major bidding war began to get them signed, a war that was eventually won by Interscope. After a few years, and a couple of highly successful albums, RFTC decided that they didn’t like being puppets to the music machine, so they gave Interscope the fingers, returned back to their independent label roots and slowly, but surely, slipped into obscurity once again.

Despite the lack of mainstream coverage, RFTC released a staggering catalogue of music (30+ official releases including albums, EP’s and compilations) during their 16 years on the go. But for many, it was a clever ploy and not the back catalogue that will keep RFTC with them forever. You see, after the release of the (really, really great) EP “The State of Art is on Fire”, RFTC made a pledge to their fans that they could get into any gig, any time, anywhere absolutely free of charge… if they had a RTFC tattoo. Surprisingly, a whole bunch of people took them up on it (more here),  and although that offer has now expired (RTFC played their last gig on Hallowe’en night 2005) I, being a lover of all things RFTC, decided recently to adorn my arm with their logo:

Oh yeah. Now I’m cooler than the other side of the pillow.

 As with all tattooes, there’s always the risk that someday you might say to yourself, “What the fuck was I thinking?”, but with this one I can relax in the knowledge that if RFTC ever regroup at least I’ll save myself a few quid on concert tickets… Sweet.

*Note - I guess this kinda blows my anonymity thing as I sincerely doubt there’s anyone else in the world with the same tattoo. If you do happen to see me in the street please remember that I do not allow photos, I’m not as polite as I may seem here and that I only sign autographs in return for blowjobs. Seriously.

top of lungs

Apparently, the majority of the no-voters say they did so because they didn’t understand it. That’s bollocks. It’s because those Eurocunts didn’t vote for Dustin in the Eurovision.

Europe, consider us even.

Back in the modern world, I am.

It’s been about three months since I performed surgery on/murdered my old laptop and since then blogging has been a total pain in the hole due to the fact that my home PC has all the speed and processing power of a banana so, although I persisted for a couple weeks after the fatality occured, I eventually got annoyed, then pissed off and then depressed so I decided to take an extended break from this blogging business. But now it’s time to rejoice people, I’ve gone and bought myself a new laptop!

*cue triumphant music*
I could probably write a fucking thesis on all the shit I’ve missed in the last two months but that would take ages to write, ages to read and more importantly, ages to write. Not to mention the fact that it would bore whatever few readers I have left into such a state of despair that they would probably take their own lives. Instead I’ll leave you with a brief summary of the shit that has been yanking my chain since last time…

• The Economy - Ha. Up yours long-time affluenza sufferers, you are all going to be poor again. Won’t affect me, I’m already there.
• Global Warming - If it means the weather stays like this? Bring it on…
• Euro 2008 - No Ireland, No England. Double boo. Not that I like England, I just like to watch them crash out of competitions after the media inevitably bill them as ‘one of the favourites’.
• The Lisbon Treaty - Couldn’t care less because it doesn’t matter. Voting yes just makes it nice and legal for the EU to implement the changes, voting no means they’ll have to make the same changes on the sly.
• Brian Cowen (on the Lisbon Treaty) - A month ago he said he didn’t even read the Lisbon Treaty. In today’s STAR he said “I negotiated that treaty line for line”. Hmmm.
• Junkies, Old people, Snooty Bitches, My Boss - You make my working life a fucking misery, please, please, please, die now.
• Google Adsense - For putting a fucking ‘High School Musical’ ad on my website. What the fuck is that about?
• NCT - Failed my car for having ’squeaky’ wipers. What a load of fuckin horseshit.
• Nissan - Charged me €135 for a teeny part to fix said wipers. Robbing cunts.
• My Local Mechanic - Charged me €120 to fit said teeny part. I hope your cock gets caught in a fan-belt.

Thank fuck I got this new computer, I’m starting to feel much better already. Who needs a therapist when you’ve got a blog, eh?