K8 the GR8

‘Well Holy God’, as Miley would say… I can’t understand this brain of mine. 

The Accidental Terrorist and Pedro the invincible are downstairs on the xbox playing Assassin’s Creed, a game which is so good, I have managed to pull two whole all-nighters playing it.  This is no mean feat for a mother of two chisellers, but it was worth it.

I disconnected my laptop from the TV feed so that I could take it upstairs, away from the madness.  I knew full well that this was a rare opportunity to snatch an hour or two away to write on me blog, but I had a heavy heart.

“What the fuck am I going to write about?” I implored the likely lads.

“Write about not knowing what to write about” said TAT, his attention elsewhere.

“Fuck off” I said.

“Write about Assassin’s Creed” suggested Pedro.

“They don’t care” I said.

Pedro didn’t seem to care either, so I wandered away.  And now here I am with nothing interesting to say.  Even a faceful of vodka doesn’t seem to help.  I’ve emailed a whole lot of friends about that tag Brian snared me on, but nobody has replied yet, except me aul’ mate Lou.  Either I’m imaginary, or they’re stumped.

So… some random madness from my recent past will have to do;

~:~

Apparently a woman walking into a hardware store in Ireland and asking for chimney cleaning equipment is hilarious.  There must be a joke out there somewhere to this effect because the two blokes behind the counter went very red and giggly for some reason.  They kept asking me about length, and I kept replying with ‘two storeys’ which amused them further.  I don’t get it. 

~:~

When a young mother is walking through a supermarket with a toddler, and if the toddler is screaming and the mother is doing nothing about it, please don’t pass comment.  She is doing her best, for it is not her that is at fault.  It’s the supermarket’s fault.  They have a very clever way of placing Creme Eggs and Kinder Surprises beside vital groceries.  This is the devil’s work, and whoever came up with this idea should be dragged into the street and shot.  I paid for that half-eaten apple, but I shouldn’t have.  I should have left it in the centre of the Creme Egg stand.  When a child is denied chocolate all hell breaks loose, and this hell should have a live feed to the audio system in the general manager’s office.

~:~

I chanced my arm the other day and wandered into a newsagent to ask for tobacco with only 4 euros.  I thought I’d get laughed out of it, but no!  Apparently you can still buy half-packs of handrolling tobacco even though ten boxes are obsolete!  This means the government must be okay with kids smoking rollies.  If this is true, then they really should advertise how to roll a proper rollie, to get them off the dreaded Johnnie Blue’s.  If there are any children out there who would like me to post a list of numbered instructions as to how to roll a cigarette, please let me know.  I would be delighted to do my bit for the country!

~:~

What else is there?  Here is proof that everyone’s parents are mad, not just mine.  Jack McMad has some excellent suggestions for improving perambulating activities around Dublin City, Roy’s Taxi gossip continues to have me shitting bricks about starting this taxi business, Jefferson’s been to the zoo, Going Like Sixty is having another ‘holy shit!’ moment, Medbh’s being esoteric,  Baino’s doing her best to find a bug in her system, and Thriftcriminal’s bitchin’.

Me dad thinks he’s lost his sense of humour, but he’s just suffering from the same thing as the rest of us.