I happened upon a poster this week, for a night club. It was advertising the appearance of some bronze gimp from some show called Geordie Shore. This guy was probably being paid a couple of grand just to go to this night club and drink. And apparently this would be enough to fill the nightclub. Well, if that’s the case, at a tenner on the door, the night club are doing some shrewd business. But…why on earth is this something that people want to see? This guy is essentially famous for being an idiot.
Now…before I go into the rant that I’m about to go into…let me clear up the following facts.
1. I know I’m no oil painting.
2. I know I can be irritating, and, 50% of my facebook followers have no doubt unsubscribed from me.
3. I know all of my down sides before I could probably name you one up side.
All that aside, I couldn’t give a fuck. I couldn’t give a fuck if the person that keeps telling me that he’s just been for a 10k run has just unsubscribed from me. I couldn’t give a fuck if the person that posts things like “Why always me :(” or “Oh no :(” or *quickly checks facebook feed* “Best day ever!” I actually want these people out of my life but am too bloody nice to unfriend them. The thing that all those updates above have in common is that when someone replies and says something like “what’s up hon?”, they usually reply with “Oh I’ll tell you when I see ya hon, don’t want to post it on facebook”. Oh sweet jesus.
Facebook is for funny jokes about countdown, and cooking tips! AND THAT’S ALL!! Ok well maybe it’s about more than that. But it’s not about pissing people off to the point of them wanting to beat you up with a toaster.
Anyway…where was I? oh right…
Yesterday I shared some pictures from a Debs on my facebook page. I’m ashamed to say that it was a Waterford school, and I’m even more ashamed to say that I giggled at them, in a really horrible way. (See number 1 above). Now, I’m sorry if this offends anyone (really, I am) but Jesus christ if someone didn’t tell me it was a debs I would have guessed it was some kind of convention for people trapped in the fringes of society. They were 80% horrendous, and almost all the women were struggling with some serious weight issues. The men just looked like mutants.
Let me put forward a theory. In the old days…and by old days, I’m referring to the 80s, so apologies to people that were partying in the 80s – I’m not talking to you here. We could probably even stretch that to the 90s. ANYWAY…back in those days we were sent (walking) to school with a lunch box that contained (maybe) (if we were lucky) a kit kat for our 11 o clock break. Now, that was a two fingered kit kat. 4 fingered kit kats were for royalty and people that lived in places called “cherrymount”. The big lunch…1pm – 2pm was a sandwich wrapped in tinfoil, probably made from the night before. Usually containing luncheon or corned beef. Ask these mutants have they ever tasted corned beef and the answer would probably be “Wha?”. There would also be a capri sun or maybe a 25p bottle of cadet. Possibly a bag of tayto, and possibly a 5-4-3-2-1 bar from a multi pack of about 40. That was it – and by Christ it was a feast. Everyone had the same…you’d have your lunch, then you’d crumple up the tinfoil and throw it at some poor cunt. That was just the way it was back then.
There were exceptions though, not for all, but definitely for some. Those exceptions were called FRIDAY. On fridays we were given a pound and we could go to the chipper and get a pound special – a bag of chips and a burger and a 25p bottle…or a battered sausage or whatever. That was a treat. That was an uberfeast.
Recently I passed by the Park District at around 1:15pm on a tuesday afternoon. That’s the area by the three shippes and the people’s park. Anyway, all the kids were out from Waterpark and De Le Salle on their lunch breaks. They were eating the following:
Some kind of dishes from the chinese – chicken fried rice…curry…kung po chicken etc
Snack boxes from Dooleys
Big -fuck off – rolls from the petrol station, with two litres of coke to wash it down.
christ alive. A lot of these kids had beards too. Big fucking kung po chicken eating mutants.
I could go on to say that after school they’ll go home and play on their X-boxes but I really can’t comment on what they do when I’m not watching them.
When I was a child, we were told that when POPEYE was playing his music, it meant that he was all out of ice cream. Poor popeye I thought, never seemed to have the supply to meet the demand. As I got older, the idea of an ice cream van travelling around all the housing estates announcing that he had no ice cream, amused me. On the off occasion when popeye slipped quietly into the housing estate, just arresting our attention as he drove past the front window…we would all run out in our socks for an impromptu neighbourhood get together.
I’m not sure where that popeye digression came from…maybe I was once again trying to explain how treats like ice creams in plastic cones with a bubble gum at the bottom were treats…not daily events.
Anyway, horrific teenagers aside, I’ll refer back to my original point. Why do people watch things that they know to be the bottom of the barrel? All the shores… Jeremy Kyle, EVERYTHING on TV3… there must come a point when you’re looking at some dark brown girl from Tallaght crying cause the fella that came on her tits last night is now flirting with some brown girl from Lusk…that you think to yourself…”what has my life become?”
I watch telly. Mostly HBO shows and sport that most other people find boring, so I can understand the expression “each to their own”. It is for this reason that I no longer berate people for watching X-factor (I also came to realise that I would berating 95% of my facebook friends, and that’s not really advisable.) I still abuse the show…I mean that can’t be helped…but I no longer insult the people that watch it. I think, like big brother and other shite like that, people just realise on their own that what they’re watching is in fact, garbage.
Now, after reading all that, what have you learned? Nothing? Right…that’s understandable.
Til next time…