Right so. If anyone doesn’t know, I’ve been the back-page columnist for TCD Miscellany this year. The final issue of the year has just gone out this week. I’ve really enjoyed writing for the magazine. Special thanks to the editor, Conor, for doing such a great job with it. I’ve always had complete faith when sending in my column, and for me, that’s saying something.
My first article is here, the second here, and the third here. Enjoy.
Miscellany IV
So here we are. The final column of the final Miscellany of the year. I’m starting to worry. The end of year exams are drawing near. All year I’ve been telling myself how I’ll be getting my act together soon.
‘Just after I go out this weekend, then I’ll start studying!’
‘Ah sure, I’m too hungover today, it can wait ‘til tomorrow.’
‘ There’s too much snow this month, it’s a month for tracksuit bottoms and two pairs of socks, not the library and essays!’
And now I’m fucked.
Too many tutorials have passed by with me being the gormless mute at the back. Sitting there, open-mouthed, gawping in amazement at the amount of stuff other people know. How do they know all these things? How do they know about politics? Why don’t I know about these things? Why have I spent my college life drinking and wanking my days away, instead of reading? Why do I consider a productive day to be one where I’ve cut my nails, had a shave and gotten a good rest?
Sometimes people have made jokes in reference to political happenings and everyone in the room laughs. I sit there trying to smile as if I know what the joke is. There’s one tutorial like this where everyone’s great, but then there’s me and one other girl who never really contribute. I appreciate her so much. Having someone else to look at and think “well, at least I’m not the only one”. So in a recent tutorial, I sat beside her at the back. The class begins as normal, everyone talking and answering questions, except me and her. Then we move on to discussing school exchanges and whether they have any sort of impact on international relations. She exclaims that she went on one of these EXACT exchanges we were talking about, and begins telling the class all about it. She’s one of them now. One of the knowledgeable ones.
I’ve never felt so betrayed in my life. My partner in ignorance leaving me in my sordid little pit of silence, all alone except for the poor company of my own fading dreams and wasted potential. Selfish cow.
I have started to make an effort though. I went to the library one Sunday. It was Sunday the 14th of February actually. A very romantic Valentine’s day I had. On the bus home I looked around and everyone was by themselves. I felt sorry for all these people, all alone on a romantic day like that. Then I realised I was one of them. I reckon that if I’d tried to initiate an orgy at that point, nobody would have declined. But how does one initiate an orgy? Do you start with one person and hope others just dive in, or do you make some sort of declaration to everyone? We got to my stop before I could come up with a plausible solution.
I’ve also begun playing the odd bit of five-a-side football. I played football for my local team for ten years, then just lost interest. To this day I regret quitting, and still often have dreams where I’m back playing. So I like a bit of five-a-side so I can see if I’ve still got it. You see, of all the men who’ve played football, not one of them ever truly stops believing that someday he’ll play for his country. Obviously, I know I won’t, but I don’t believe I won’t.
There’ll come a day, when my grandchildren pay me a visit in my hospice, and I’ll be propped up, all withered and yellow and listless, smelling of piss. As they spoon some baby food into my mouth, they’ll ask me if I’m feeling alright. I’ll tell them I’m not, because I woke up that morning and finally realised that I really am probably never going to captain Ireland in a world cup match. I imagine I’ll die the following morning, of a shattered heart.
The five-a-side is good though. I do still have it. I change into my tracksuit bottoms with the hole in them, stick on the runners, take a swig of Lucozade, and trot onto the pitch (the small little indoor place) and play my heart out. Closing down, tackling, through balls, cheeky back-heels.
For about five minutes.
The following 55 minutes involve me doing whatever I can to stop myself from vomiting, and clutching my sides with a stitch. What the fuck is a stitch anyway? Just fuck off you weird little pain.
Before I tackle exams, I have my birthday to deal with. This year, my birthday falls on Good Friday. Now, I know there’s been an earthquake in Haiti, and thousands of people are suffering. I know about 9/11, and how many lives were lost and how some people had to throw themselves from the towers to avoid being killed in the inferno. I know all about the degradation and segregation minorities have suffered throughout the centuries. I know there’s been concentration camps in which millions have suffered and died. I know about all sorts of horrors and plights.
But do any of these people know what it feels like to have your birthday fall on a day when the pubs are closed? I think not.
On the upside, I’ve managed to avoid the illnesses that everyone else seems to have gotten. I sit bewildered in lectures as everyone coughs and sneezes. Baffled as I watch people projectile vomit over each other. Bemused as limbs are falling off people left, right and centre. You’d think this is a good thing, but now I’m just worried that this is a brief respite from illness, building up to something serious.
So that’s it. This is the final paragraph of the final column of the final Miscellany of the year. I should end it with something reflective and nice. Some food for thought perhaps. Instead I’m just going to say tits, scrotum and clunge.
Gigs. Bon Iver on Tuesday (see previous blog post) and I’ve going to see This Will Destroy You tonight. I’ve another two gigs to attend over the next month too.
Concerts are just brilliant. The anticipation while watching all the equipment being set up and then finally seeing your favourite artists in the flesh, doing what they do best.
Lately, with me being a broke college student, I’ve gotten into the habit of not drinking at concerts, and it’s not so bad actually.
Something that made me laugh this week :
In town the other night, waiting for a nitelink. I had just gone and bought credit, and had spent more money that night than I’d intended. A homeless guy came up to me as I was leaving the shop, and started talking to me. When you’re in the city often, you begin to desensitise to homeless people and their asking for spare change, though I’ll be the first to admit that I’m a bit of a sucker for those less fortunate.
This guy says to me : "Sorry to bother you mate, I’m completely harmless, I’m not a criminal and I don’t abuse drugs. I haven’t drank in 8 years. I’m desperately trying to get 18 euro together for a hostel, would you have any spare change?"
I couldn’t say no after something like this. He really made a good pitch!
Even though I knew there was every chance it was complete bullshit and he was off to buy a naggin of vodka as soon as he got the money, he seemed genuine and one thing was for sure - he was far worse off than me. Here’s me thinking I’m broke because I have to stay in the odd night instead of going to a club, and going to college during the week, while this guy is walking the streets trying to scrape some change together for food or somewhere to stay. I gave him the change I had in my wallet, and said "Sorry it’s so little, the only change I have".
He shrugged and said : "Better than a kick in the balls mate. Thanks." and walked off.
I did a genuine laugh when he said that, and was glad I gave him money.
Curses on :
Motherfucking Eircom. The main phone company in Ireland, and my internet provider.
Something’s wrong with the internet in my area. Certain sites are being blocked by Eircom while they’re fucking around with something, and it’s very irritating. Yesterday I noticed none of my sites on my server were working. So I asked a friend to check if they loaded for him. They did.
He then told me that a load of sites hadn’t been working for him the day before, and it’s something to do with Eircom. This guy is my main computer nerd advice person, so I suspect he’s right. I then tried my sites using a proxy server, and they worked fine.
Right now I have to do this post through a proxy, which is just a pain in the hole.
I’m pleased with :
Learning to save my money a little better.
I’ve begun to learn when to take it easy and stay in for the night. And as I mentioned above, learned not to drink (much) at gigs etc where there’s actually something to do aside from getting drunk.
The best thing is saving money on food. Being in college during the day, you get hungry obviously. This is when people go and buy food. But I have discovered a brilliant money-saver.
Just starve!
Even the other day I was given money to buy lunch, as presumably my parents felt bad about me buying my own food every day.
There wasn’t a single second where I actually considered buying food with that money.
A pointless anecdote from this week :
You know when you do something that just makes you think "Fucking hell, I’m a complete idiot"?
The other day I was walking down towards the bus stop to head into town to meet some people. I get around the corner where I can see the road that buses drive down, and see one bus driving off. Feck. If only I’d tied my shoes a bit quicker and walked a bit faster, I’d have gotten that bus. Not to worry, there’ll be another.
In the place where I usually get the bus, there’s about six different buses that regularly pass through, of which I can get five. I get around the corner to where I can see the bus stop, but still have a bit of walking until I get there. And I see another bus. Feck! It was stopped at traffic lights, behind a car. If I miss this one too, then I could be waiting a while for the next.
So I decide, fuck it, run to the next stop, to get there before the bus does. So I ran. Ran like a motherfucker I did. Was getting close, and then saw a car go by me, which meant the bus was next. Threw an arm out as I ran, to indicate to the passing bus that I wanted to get it. He slowed down dramatically, and stopped just after the bus stop, waiting for me to continue running and get on.
Then I looked at the bus number, and it was the one fucking bus that doesn’t go into town. I didn’t know what to do then. I had ran for ages, looking like a right dope, and the driver had stopped for me and all, and was waiting just ahead. I just waved it on, in the hope the driver would be looking out his mirror and understand what happened. He did, it seemed. And drove off.
So then I was waiting the next bus stop on from my usual. I didn’t like this. I much prefer my usual one - you can see the bus coming for ages from there.
So I check the bus timetable, and see there’s no other buses coming for a few minutes, so decide to walk to my usual bus stop. A fucking stupid decision if ever I heard one.
You know what’s going to happen don’t you?
About half way back towards my bus stop I see a bus coming, and it’s one I can get.
"Oh for fuck’s sake".
Back and forth like a feckin’ yo-yo here!
And so I turned and ran back to my second bus stop, having to do the throwing-your-arm-out-to-stop-the-bus thing yet again. Thankfully this bus also stopped for me, and I was ever so grateful until I saw some people getting off there, so I didn’t even need to run like I had done.
Got on the bus and sat there for the journey thinking about what a fucking idiot I was.
There’s no sweat quite like the sweat you build from doing a whole lot of unnecessary sprinting.
Great guy/gal of this week :
Whitney Doyebi. For two reasons :
1. I’ve nobody else in mind this week.
2. She asked me, in a drunken email.
Whitney is a friend of mine that moved back to America (where she originally came from) when we were in first year of secondary school. All American she was, with her accent and her enthusiasm and mannerisms.
About two or three years after she left us, Whitney found us all through myspace or bebo and has been keeping in contact ever since.
The other day Whitney sent me a drunken email explaining why she deserved the great guy/gal of the week.
She is a great girl however. Once, back in fifth class I think, Whitney loaned me some accessories to enhance my "goth" costume that I was wearing to a fancy dress party.
Shitney <3
Product/Service I like this week :
The pub on campus in Trinity.
Cans of beer for half the price of a pint? Yes please!
Why don’t more pubs do this?
You can still make good profit (they’re charging over double the price that a can of beer retails at), there’s no cleaning glasses, no cleaning up smashed glasses, and you draw in the broke students.
You can still get pints in there of course, but very few people do. Guinness is my drink of choice (yes, I’m an old man) so I tried that in there first. They gave me my pint in a plastic glass.
Are you serious? Guinness in a plastic cup? Why not just give it to me in a muddy old wellie or something while you’re at it?
A quote :
"Show me a man who lives alone and has a perpetually clean kitchen, and 8 times out of 9 I’ll show you a man with detestable spiritual qualities."
- Henry Charles Bukowski
Favourite song this week :
You Can’t Hold No Groove - by Victor Wooten
Best bassist in the world in my opinion.
I’m not sure if non-bassists would appreciate this song, but fuck it, I think it’s class.
(Note : I checked to see if it’s Curb or Kerb, and while it seems it might well be Curb, I think both are accepted, and I personally like to differentiate between the verb “to curb” and the pavement version I’m talking about here)
Who played Kerbs (aka Kerbies) as a child?
I was out the other day with my mate, and as we came home, he had an hour to kill before he had to go to work, and I had several hours to kill before… probably nothing.
So we decided to have a game of Kerbs. Something we hadn’t done in years.
For those who are not familiar, I’ll explain the rules for Kerbs, which can vary depending on where you’re playing. We had loads of different rules here. Frankly I think we were the kerbs champions of the area, and our rules for On The Volley were pretty savage too, I must say.
You each stand on opposite sides of the road. Obviously there must be kerbs. You must throw or kick the ball across, getting it to bounce off the kerb and come back at least half way across the road again.
This gets you ten points. When you score these ten points, you go half way across the road and have the same task. If you get it this time too (it’s easier from here obviously), you get five points. You keep throwing from the midway point until you miss, so often you can get 15-20 points from there after getting the 10 already. But here’s the catch. When you miss from the half way point, you have to run back to your side of the road quickly, because if your opponent manages to kick/throw the ball at you and hit you before you get back - they get all your points. This is my weakness, as you will read about later on.
Usually it’s the first to 100 points. But there are bonus ones too. If you throw the ball over a car that’s passing through the game and hit the kerb : 20 points. Over a lorry : 30 points. Turn around and throw it over your head : 20 points.
So the games commenced. I was ON FIRE. After so long, I hadn’t lost my skeelz.
We got to 95-0. That’s right, I was on 95 points, and my mate was on a pathetic 0. Not a single point. I strolled up to the midway point to secure my victory. Triumphant and smug I was. A perfect game, One hundred to nil. What a way to return to Kerbs. I was back and better than ever.
I missed. My slow reaction and my mate’s cat-like reflexes now came into play.
I turned to run. Everything turned blurry and slow. Surely not. Surely not now! When I was five points away from a perfect victory. I literally couldn’t be closer to winning. Then I heard the thud of my friends foot on the leather of the football. No way will he be able to hit me. He can’t be accurate enough from an instinctive reaction kick.
Then the ball hit me, grazing the side of my hip and flying off around the corner.
“Nooooooo!”
I kept running in the direction of the ball, to get it right away. Reeling and disgusted. I heard my mate’s laughter gradually get more hysterical, as he realised what had just happened. Five points away I was! And him on feckin’ zero. What a joke. We need to revise the rules.
I got back and said : “So we’re 95-all then?”
“Eh, no. I’m on 95. You’re on zero, I get your points”
“Feck.”
He then promptly wrapped up his victory, with his first earned points of the day.
No way were we leaving it at that. I deserved to win that bloody game, and I’m fucked if I’m not having my revenge.
We played again. Half way through and it was fairly even. Then a neighbour brought their child to play with us. He’s 5 or 6 years old. Grand so, he can be with me. Such was my confidence in my kerbs ability that I didn’t mind wasting a few shots by letting him play. Sure he’s adorable!
But this is when I began to feel old. Kids are different these days.
The chap kept on saying “This is awesome!” - all childishly enthusiastic and innocent.
Awesome?
Fucking “awesome”?!
Since when do Irish kids use the word Awesome? Back in my day, things were Deadly, Rapid (pronounced “Rapih”) and often, Beast. Never would we say “Awesome”.
My mate won, again. I think it finished 100-85. A close game. Arguably I would have won had I not sacrificed myself for the sake of a small child’s joy. But still my pride ached. And we had 20 minutes left. One more game.
The child saw his mother come home and ran in to her. We could play properly again!
We played, and I was flying, winning about 60-0.
Then the child came out again. With three ice-creams! Screwballs, they were. You know the little triangular cups with the chewing gum at the bottom?
“There’s chewing gum at the bottom of these” said the child, as ice-cream dribbled down his chin.
“Is there? I didn’t think they were allowed do that anymore” I said to my mate.
“Why?”
“Well I heard the ice-cream man couldn’t do them anymore, some kid choked on one once apparently”
“No, I never heard that” - Guess who said that? Only the feckin’ child!
“Of course you didn’t, you weren’t born then. Sure I was only a nipper myself at the time”
Feckin’ kids! “I never heard that” - Where’s the respect? Kids are getting way too sophisticated. Then when I told him my name (he knew it when he was younger, the little bastard), he said “Nice to meet you, Mark.”
What. The. Fuck.
He’s in senior infants. Only in the past two years did I start using the phrase “Nice to meet you”.
I can’t help imagining these kids all heading into primary school, in little blazers, scoffing caviar and talking about the recession.
We had to finish the game after our ice-creams. We got to 80-10, with me in the lead. Then I got a ten pointer. This is it, I could win it now. 90-10.
You know what happened don’t you? It’s too perfect.
I missed from the half way point, and got hit on the way back. And lost by 100 to nil.
Twice I lost because of that silly ruling. But them’s the breaks. You can’t fuck with the rules of kerbs.
You couldn’t write the script for those three games of kerbs. Epic stuff.
I think the people on my road were a bit freaked out to see us out playing kerbs again. It must have seemed like the year 2000 again.
Two 18 year olds, out playing kerbs and eating screwball ice-creams.
I miss the good old days of childhood games that didn’t involve a screen. Especially when you go on holidays and meet some other kids to play with : “Who fancies a game of Tip The Can? Oh you call it Kingstone do you? Yeah my cousin calls it that too. Tip The Can is way better though”.
So a few weeks ago I was a bit broke, and said “Feck it, it’s time for an eBook.” Something that’s always hot in the webmaster world is flipping websites (creating a site and selling it for profit), and well, I’ve done this a lot, so I know what I’m doing with it. So that was my topic. I picked up the domain SiteFlipGuide.com, which I feel was a pretty decent find.
I wrote the ebook, and hired someone to do graphics (see more on this below).
Then I got a different job, and became very lazy, and nearly forgot about the eBook as I was out drinking away my new found money. As I’d written the book, bought the domain, and paid for graphics, I decided to complete the site and make a quick buck on it. So I did the rest of the donkey work, and was left with two options :
1. Try and sell copies of the eBook : This can be time consuming, and irritating as hell, dealing with customers. After selling some copies, I’d then sell exclusive rights to the eBook, which would appear quite valuable with the sales it would have accumulated.
2. Just sell the exclusive rights straight away. The right buyer would see this as an advantage, as there’d still be so many potential buyers.
I went with option 2, as I just don’t have much time these days, and lately I find myself dealing with an awful lot of people online, with work etc, so adding a ton of customers to this would only serve to overwhelm me a bit.
I stuck the ebook and site up on Sitepoint for sale. Bidding started at $250, with a Buy It Now price of $500. Within a day someone offered $400 to buy it right then. I accepted, and we’re both happy. He now has exclusive rights to the ebook and can do whatever he likes with it.
My Graphic Designer
Now, I promised I’d give a shout out to the guy who did all the design work for the ebook and website. As you can see from the site, he did a great job. His name is Mark (which earned instant rapport with me) and his company is Arrival Media. I’ve dealt with a good few designers in my time and this guy was by far the easiest to deal with. Not only was he very skilled, he showed common sense, and didn’t need me to spell everything out for him, like most designers do.
I’ve given them an ad on the side of the blog too, such was my pleasure at seeing their work. Any budding designers, talk to that company about the backend system they use for jobs, because I’d never seen it before and it was top class.
Other Business
I was asked to be on a five-man team in a blog-flipping contest, which many big names were taking part in. I accepted at first but later had to drop out, as I’m just so busy at the moment, I figured I’d only be a liability.
I’ve made a donation to a contest being run by Sean from smemon.com, in which he’ll be doing a skydive for chartity. Go on over there and show some support.
“Mark Walsh www.walsho.net is on this isnt he? Hes semi-famous, I heard him mentioned on tv once”
Semi-famous?! TV?!
Eh?!
Even though I’m far from even being semi-famous and highly doubt I’ve ever been mentioned on tv, I can only describe my reaction to seeing that first reply as :
It’s been ten or eleven days since my last post, and I believe my absence has sent shockwaves through the blogosphere. All men wondering where their idol and hero has gone to. All women wondering where their pin-up and ideal man is. Global media has descended into what can only be described as a frenzy.
Basically, today I had two people ask me what I was at and why I hadn’t been making my futile attempts at blogging on here. So, what have I been doing?
Meh, not much. Relaxin’. Drinkin’. Browsin’.
Seriously, what the hell have I been doing? How is the second month of summer nearly over? Why am I such a waster?
My sleep pattern is still completely fucked, but I’ve decided to stop fighting this and try to embrace my nocturnism (Hell, it’s quarter to five in the morning now and I’m not at all tired). I’m in good company with the owls and vampires. Who needs functioning society with their timekeeping busybodies? Not me.
I am, however, going to take some steps to get me working in a more productive manner. I’ve got a lot of web work on my plate at the minute, and I’m crawling through it, rather than sprinting majestically like I had planned. Tomorrow I’m going to introduce some sort of schedule for the week and stick to it. There will be a full update on what I’m doing with my websites soon.
Leaving cert results are looming, which I find terrifying. All I can envision at the moment is me opening my results and not being able to stop my face dropping as I see results far below what I’m capable of. I can really imagine the gut-wrenching disappointment, and that’s what worries me. I’m aware that worrying is pointless, but I don’t really have a choice here, I can’t help it. The only solution to this worry is beer. Alcohol will clog the worried pores in my body.
Sadly I’m cutting down on drink because it’s all those drunken nights out and hungover mornings that are causing my productivity to suffer. I also have the feeling that if my liver were a person she’d be giving me the cold shoulder right now for being so selfish and inconsiderate, and also for checking out the liver on the girl across the road. My liver is a jealous lover, you see.
Lately I’ve actually been feeling a bit compassionate, and have been wanting to do a little charity work. I’ve sent off a form online, and emailed another company, but haven’t heard anything back yet. If anyone has any ideas on how I could start being a do-gooder, please let me know. Sometimes I do actually feel a bit guilty and selfish, sitting at home on my laptop, listening to music on my ipod and eating caviar, feet resting on the backs of loyal servants, being ridiculously good looking all the while.
A business-related post will be up next. I know that sort of thing bores some readers, but it’s an important part of my day-to-day life, so I feel it’s appropriate to update on it now and again. Oui?
Anyway, I’m off, I’ve got forums to waste time on. Goodbike
I wasn’t far off. The album has been received very well as I predicted, and it’s an overall good album, a lot more steady and better produced than their previous work. However, I said the album would be lacking in major anthems, but I was wrong here.
The album is seriously a credit to the lads. Pete Doherty (vocals and guitar) obviously, but not to forget Mick Whitnall (new lead guitarist), Adam Ficek (drums) and Drew McConnell (bass).
I downloaded the album pre-release, but actually went and bought it too, and got the version with the dvd, which includes some live performances too. It’s a great album, and well worth giving it a listen. Babyshambles are a very versatile band, with a lot of punky songs, then all of a sudden you’ll hear a jazzy number with Drew using an old double bass. It’s rare to find a band like that these days. So though most will despise them based solely on Mr. Doherty’s escapades, I highly recommend this band to anyone with an ear for music.
Found this today on boards.ie, Pro Evo is a damn good football game, the only ever rival to FIFA, so when I found a free download for it on PC there was no saying no.
Bit of a heavy download at 1gb though, but hopefully will be worth it.
