The newer (and way less interesting) stuff'll remain here.
1:54pm 25/9/2004 Location: Who cares?
Right well. Interactivity with other humans increased recently due to obtaining of 2nd pad for Xbox. Whether this is good or bad has yet to be decided. On a more agitating note school is shit. A-level work has begun and is already annoying. However the early hours of school and indeed luchtime make room for an increasingly entertaining (and painful) game known as "Knuckles". Details Below.
Knuckles
Catch: People who fail to keep the coin spinning must place their knuckles flat on the surface and get the coin horizontaly slid into them at force. This will most likely result in bruised/cut/sliced open knuckles. But hey that's the name of the game, they should've figured it out.
This game can provide full minutes of fun, albeit bruising, sore and occaisonally messy fun.
Now=After the last entry
Last entry I neglected to mention one of the funniest things ever to take place in the history of the world...ever. On the day of the school photo his holiness the very reverend Dr./Fr./El Presidente Brown decided that while the teachers photo was being taken the students, that is the 800+ seemingly sensible mature young men, were to go onto the football pitches and amuse themselves in whatever manner they see fit. What followed was the biggest display of disregard for expectations of good behaviour as small riots, gang-like violence and general chaos broke out almost immediately. Group mentality took hold and the most basic of human instincts were all that remained of this once reasonably mature rabble. Have you ever read Lord of the Flies? Well if so, it was like that, only more violence. In any case upon seeing a pile of grass a little far off from where we were somebody got the bright idea to pick someone up and throw them in it. The subject would have to be something of a social 'epsilon', if you will, and would have to be relatively hesitant to defend himself. Unfortunately for Johnny Illif he fitted this critera perfectly. Group mentality meant that enough boys were prepared to lift him to the pile of damp grass and dump him in it. Turns out it wasn't just grass. It couldn't have been, no grass smells that much. So Johnny stank for the remainder of the time spent down there as a result of the now obvious compost heap and a breakdown of social protocols. In short: "Johnny smells like he shat himself!"
15/11. 4 days A.H2.(After Halo 2)
Do you really expect me to do anything to this site just yet? The answer is no. And I won't. Not to mention GTA: San Andreas as well. If you have neither of these games: I laugh. Now it's back to killerising aliens for me. I suggest you do the same.
From the last boring moment to this.
Oh Christ. I'm back in school again after an extremely lethargic Christmas with an average wake-up time of about 2:30pm. I very often arose when the sun was going down. Oh how I hate the sun and all it's bright glory. How dare it mock me with its long presence in these hours of desperate tiredness. Alas, enough of this gay banter. At least it's a Friday and I can thouroughly enjoy dying and making others die online with the help of Halo 2 and X box Live which I attained for Xmas. Do you have that? No!? A-ha ha ha! See you when I grow tiresome of that, suckers!
The Truth
Tests are shit
Insert witty sub-title here
A bomb just went off in our school. Or at least something like one. That is all. UPDATE: No. Not a bomb. A firework apparently, strapped to a fire extinguisher. Ingenious how the culprits managed to create such an explosion out of something with which one would diminish situations of that nature. The rumour mill says 78 dead, 24 injured. That's lies of course. AND ANOTHER UPDATE: No not a fire extinguisher. Just a firework. How dull. The rumour mill says: Fingerprints to be carried out by police on students. No, thats just some more lies.
Happenings
Yet more "silly behavior" going on in school this week with lads making a mess of the main corridor to which a general announcement was made by an extremley smart leader, a master of rhetoric, Mr/Dr/Fr/Whatever Francis Brown. Some extracts from his inspirational speech are as follows.
Furthermore, he again displayed his knowledge of the "Ars Poetica" (thats the Poetic Arts or Learned Posh-Talk for you philestines) in the Ash Wednesday mass. Unfortunately I was...ahem..."unable" to attend and have to rely on varying reports of this rather idiotic warning which from the sounds of things went something like "...when no boy talks...there will be no talking." He is truly the George W. Bush of the Catholic Church.
In Night Out news I accompanied mon frere et amis to the Duke in Warrenpoint where the motto is "Drink and be merry!". OK, not really I made that up but it was the theme of the night and it was done to music befitting of a kings court. No there weren't any minstrels or jesters but Black Alley Screens playing "BBC"! Kingly to be sure. There was some other band(s) and events but I remember not these vague details that come creeping swiftly into one's night out and disappear just as furtively and quickly to the darkness. I do remember winning a thumb war and a game of rock, paper, scissors consecutively with Jardeth though. Oh, how we chortled. Heh heh, "chortled". Anyhows philosophy of the night:
To maintain high spirits in a time of depression and helplessness, one must bite sleeves.(as shown above) It is the only answer to such troubles.
Storytime with Brendan!
I forget most of the weeks goings-ons. Lesee...
So because of the lack of newness to this news post, I've decided to include a little tale of one boys search for adventure and riches. I give you: The Tale of the Irrelevant Young Boy
Once long ago, there lived a young boy who most of all desired a new freind to play with. Being a citizen of the hamlet of Jillyvosvillebourg, he was of course a simple peasant boy. He had left his hometown at a tender age seeking riches and adventure and decided he wanted a new freind along the way.
He met a freindly squirrel along the road and said to him. "I am a young boy seeking riches for a better life and I'd like a freind to help me. Will you help me and be my freind, freindly squirrel?"
The squirrel, being a forward creature, spake thus: "Bugger off. I have a family to feed and nuts and shite to collect for the long winter so we dont die of exposure in the freezing snow, wind and rain. So you can see why I dont just drop what I'm doing to go and be your "freind" you deluded little toss-pot. Now piss off back from whence you came. I haven't any time for the likes of you."
And so the young boys heart was broken and, quoting a shakespeare play, he depressingly sighed: "I shall go and find some ditch wherein to die"
The young boys remains were found a week later in a ditch by the road. His parents were terribly upset and the squirrel continued on with his work unknowingly.
Moral: When you write a story initially meaning to be light hearted and fun and it turns out like this, there's something terribly wrong with you.
20th-26th Febuary 2005(just to give you an idea of how long this has been going for)
The worst thing about this week was the snow. Or rather the lack of it. Every day through the week people said "It's supposed to snow tonight". Bullshit. It snowed perhaps twice where i'm at and the overall effect was more akin to powdered sugar sprinkled lightly on the landscape rather than the "blanket of white" the stupid people on the news were talking about. Annoying but tasty, mmm powdered sugar. I hate them all. Despite this people still felt the need to take days off school either because they were on a Geography trip, Ski-trip or a cleverly invented "retreat". So barely anyone was in and the week passed without much fun at all. On friday we did go to Stormont for European Studies which was perhaps the highlight of the week. I prophisised Helen great white Shark(e)y (na-ha see what I did there? No of course not) from the GT would be there and how right I was. I knew she'd have an affinity for politics, etc. I miss the GT people, none of whom seem to be going back for summer. They're all pissing off to the easter course. Damn yous! Damn yous all to hells! I hope you all die in an unfortunate series of horrible house fires!
Your loving freind, B.C.
One week later...
Go away, I'm busy.
Expecting more than that eh? Well alright
Go away, I'm busy and I dont like you.
A couple of weeks later...
I have a plan. I shall surprise the people at easter course of the gaeltacht by showing up uninvited and out of the blue! Naha a cunning plan indeed yes. Of course writing this could compromise the whole "surprise" aspect of this ingenious scheme but that just shows the lengths at which I'm willing to go to reliably bring you, week by week, the top-notch entertainment that is my life. Whats that you say? I don't even provide top quality entertainment on a weekly basis? Or anything remotely resembling it? Nobody is even listening you say? Well in that case:
fghsdhsdhcxvbsrtyhaeoucbvaigydhtskviyds!
Share and, by all means, enjoy.
Moments later...
Well that idea went to hell in a handbasket, came back, laughed and ran back off to hell screaming in the high pitched voice of an annoying twelve year old: "Narhar! All will perish at the metaphorical hands of the supreme failure of an idea! Narhahahahar!" In other words the plan didnt go to plan and my means of getting to Donegal have gone. Fate has decided that instead of bringing me to Donegal it'll make me do work in the garden for me dear ol' pops. Thank you fate, you ruined my life and now you've ruined my easter. What do you want from me? My sanity I hear you demand? No, you can't have it! I worked too hard to earn this state of non-craziness to give it away to you Fate you vicious bastard!Some of you may think my talking to fate justifies me being stripped of my label of 'sane person' well, to those that do, if you ever speak of this I will tie you up on a Spanish colonial boat of the 1400's and leave you for the crew to have their way with you. It gets awful lonely out there in those dreadfully strange seas. One should think you'll make quite the impact on the sailors. To those who don't question my sanity: have a nice day you beautiful, beautiful people you.
Meet old Bob.
They make me physically vomit with disgust
I am reffering of course to my school. Let me break it down for you, Brendy Caldwell style (and yes, I am aware that I stole that off a tv sitcom not, not, not entirely dissimilar to Scrubs). It's Monday morning, i'm tired, we all are. I'm free first 4 periods on a monday so i can get some computers coursework done in the study hall thankfully, correct? Incorrect. The study halls closed, go elsewhere silly misguided boy. Righto library. It has computers. Don't be stupid. A sign pleasantly informed me that "All S3s must piss off to other places, 5th years have to be locked up for they're stinking GCSE oral language exams. You heard, now bugger off. Yeah, i'm talking to you Scumwell!" Well, I never! Computer labs, surely if i can bypass the wench of an evil entity that looms down there in the darkness i shall attain a computer, if only for a short while. NO! BE CAST FROM THIS PLACE OF SHADOW DO-GOODER! WE WILL NOT TOLERATE YOUR KIND HERE!
In the end I found myself in the Design and Tech labs where i havent been since 3rd year. To add to the richness of all this we were called out to attend some filthy presentation 3rd and 4th period, therefore consuming more of my precious trickle of time. At the beginning of this Mr nO'Hare called upon everyone to have their key-skills work in by tomorrow. Really, sir? Tomorrow you say? Surely it would then be wise to allow us these two periods, which have incidentally been designated for key-skills, in order to finish such works? And perhaps while you're at that you could explain why you are gobbling up our time with this nonsense when just recently you have revealed we also have:
a) Personal statements to write
b) Interviews with the senior staff to organise
c) Coursework to get handed into many subjects
d) A plethora of examinations to revise for
eh? I don't understand why this is. Perhaps you have some deeply rooted philanthropic purpose to all of this and in the end it will teach us a great lesson about life? "Now boys, when you go into the world no longer a student, and you've got all your problems with universities, finances, jobs, homes, familys et cetera, et cetera to concern you, just remember all that we here at the beautiful St. Colmans college taught you about TIME MANAGEMENT. Its a wonderful skill to have."
Sometime during the AS tests
Sitting in school awaiting a key skills exam at 11 O'Clock is perhaps the dullest experience of my life. Having exhausted all possible sources of entertainment on the internet (which doesnt take long seeing as how the school decided to block every good website, then just for kicks, employs someone to make sure we don't find any other sites they may have missed by monitoring everything we do on the computers. It is very possible, for instance, that said employee is watching what I'm doing right at this moment and will subsequently take control of my computer using deplorable remote monitoring software.) Dear God that was one long bracket-rant. So, having done that, I have once again come to one of my award winning stipulations. They might be able to stop me viewing unsuitable material on the internet but they sure as hell cant stop me creating it. And with that I give you some pure, unsolicited, unfiltered, beautiful and refreshing unsuitable material:
FUCK
Share and enjoy with everyone you meet ever
The following takes place between 21 and 22 o'clock
I have embarked upon a great quest in the name of laziness recently and am currently attempting to break my record of sleeping in to 4:30pm. So far, unsuccessfully. No matter, there is time yet. Also I gots a portable telephone recently. Or a "mobile fone" as the kids say nowadays. It's nothing fancy, well it is if you compared it to my last one which was a brick. No I mean an actual red brick, for building. I nicked it from a building site once. Never did figure out how to call anyone. Anyhoo, I just decided to write something so Lavery has something to take a gander at while he peruses the information superhighway (or the internet as those pre-mentioned young ones dub it) for illicit, and very likely, pornographic material.
Tata
The great adventure of Gormley's transition to manlinesshood.
Once upon a time (2:30pm on Friday if I recollect correct) I recieved a phone call from Downey which I answered from the comfort of my glorious, glorious bed. One nights later we was on our ways to Baxters house to celebrate monseiur Gorms' 18th birthday. And celebrate we did, oh yes. A summary of events can be found here
A more fleshed out version is in order though methinks. The gameplan went a little something like this:
Any more detail and it would get so convoluted that your head would implode from the sheer convolutedness. Really it would. This is not an excuse for me to skive off my usual 3 page story of how a night went with a lot of big words and effort put in. It's just too much ground to cover OK?
Ok sorry. Have a funny picture then.
The Gaeltacht happened...again
Back now in school. I'd write up about the GT but I couldn't be arsed getting into all the detail. Maybe later. Apparantly Lavery just got suspended. It is currently 2:43pm on the second day of school this year. Well done Lavery. Downey laughs. School is still shite, boring, etc. and this is me hitting head on keyboard because I am tired and my back hurts from sitting doing nothing. gbvhjnyjhunyfgtvr In otherway, this weekend my itinerary consists of lazing around interspersed with general lounging about. I may alternate between bouts of sleeping, resting, sitting and of course the aforementioned lazing and lounging. It should be one spectacular weekend! Don't miss it! Only...on the BBC (Brendans Broadcasting Company) ...It has recently come to my attention that the acronym BBC is already copyrighted and is, in fact, a quite well known television broadcasting service. I have therefore changed the name of my service. ...It is now BBC2Fuck me I'm tired
Yawn. Monday lunchtimes here at the delightful St. Colmans are a fairly boring experiance. Everybody else with me as the exception appears to currently have a triple period of something. Not unusual but it is bloody annoting. Annoting? WTF!? "WTF"? What the fuck? I appear to be losing my grip on the English language and am falling ever deeper into the realm of speed-typing and 'l337-speak'. Well, seeing as I have started down this infernal path allow me to indulge my inner geek. OMG i liek totally pwned tihs newb all teh whey back 2 newb-town!!! i liek plasma pistoled him and he went all liek "omfg! wtf! u fuckin n00b!" and i was all "ur teh newb! im 1337! u cant even spel newb! it doesnt have 2 zeros duh!" and he was all "lol rofl lmao lolz!!!11!1!1!!!11" and i was liek "yeah laff it up coz i pwned ur ass biznitch!" omfg i was teh seXXorz!!!11!11one!!1
Well enough of that for now. I suppose you are glad you do not partake in an active (or even observatory) role in the online gaming community. And you would be right. If you wish to know more purchase an X-Box, Halo 2, and X-Box live and i will pwn-dizzle ur azz!!1
Hallows' Ween Eve
Aye it's that time again. Actually it's over by now so thus concludes about a week or so of this joint being more like a warzone than usual with the bangs of fireworks, flying eggs and floury residue left the next morning. I for one decided it would be a time best suited for drowning such sorrows with bulk amounts of beer, such is life in the belly of the beast. The beast being Lurgan and the belly being Lurgan after halloween night simply because what litters the streets bears remarkable resemblence to ones stomach contents. Indeed you'll find lots of that too.
Anyway...beers. Beers, beers, beers. What is there to say? Very nice chaps. Gradual effectiveness with minimal repurcussions by way of hangover. The perfect drink I'd say. Which is why I consumed more than my own body weight in them recently. Although the lack of females wherever the beer is at is...disconcerting at best. At worst it is mind bogglingly depressing. No more apparent was this than at one of Johnstons social gatherings. One might call it a hootinanny but one might be mistaken. Those do's of Johnstons have gone downhill I'm afraid as it remained quite the sausage-fest throughout, regardless of the expectations of its temporary inhabitants. Of course you could say that expecting 5 fine young ladies to pile in wearing schoolgirl uniforms and the like to be somewhat optimistic. Stupidly so. Nonetheless this was the promise and it was not so much "delivered upon" as it was "shit upon". Not that it's El Johnstonos own fault, rather ours for getting our hopes up. After a little while my cousin and I resigned ourselves to the long walk home (about 6 miles at 1:30 in the morning and don't ask me why).
So children, what have we learned? Nothing you say? And you'd be right. Because we will do it all again next year. Hopefully by then there'll be some schoolgirls on the go.
Beers
You can't go wrong with them can you? That is to say they provide a nice gradual worsening in your coordination and decision-making abilities as opposed to the sudden brain crushing, drool inducing, vomit inspiring effects of stronger drinks. You may be wondering where this is all going. You may even think you know already but no, you do not. Unless of course you answered "Nowhere" for thats exactly where this is going. Not only is this going nowhere but it is going nowhere fast. Watch just how extremely, mind-bogglingly fast that this goes nowhere, you won't be able to catch your breath or stick your head out the window for the craic because if you did it would undoubtedly get lopped off by some kind of passing subject moving in the opposite direction, going somewhere, and going there not quite as fast as this is not going somewhere but still fast enough to take your precious little head right off.In fact, this is going nowhere so well that I'm thinking of making this a regular thing of mine. I've done it before surely but never to such a high and enlightening standard. Pointlessness, it seems, is something I can do supremely well. That's not to say there isn't people out there better at it than me, Fr. Brown for instance or the producers of Big Brother, but I really think I've found my calling in life with the ability to go nowhere. With this kind of skill in meaninglessness behind me I will definately go places.
Why are we here?
We have important exams soon you oaf! Stop wasting your time here and do some bloody revision!
Honest to God you are such a retard.
Happy new year, 'One year closer to the inevitable malfunction and decay of your meaty vessel'
My aquaintances and I realised it was new years at 12:05 and broke open another beer to celebrate. The empty bottles shortly joined the mass of previous ones on the table in front of us and suffice to say we were all generally sozzled enough to go on the first drunken dander of the new year up the town.After a few turns of the road and nowhere near up the town we had to abort on account of one of the parties (Richie) untimely illness. At this exact moment a rabble of young fellas decided to crowd round us and all have a share of whatever ciggarettes they could blag out of us. Bastards.
Well not all of them were bastards. Most were quite jolly and generally easy going folk. They even liked the Futureheads. God I love the Futureheads. Anyway, a couple of them started following us back to the house like stray dogs and kept begging for more fegs. We obliged eventually and took off hastily into the night lest they follow us again when they realised we still had their lighter.
Overall, a small victory for us. An hour or so later we made a second attempt at travelling up the town, this time successfully. We ended up meeting my brother, getting threatened, eating chips, hanging around in the middle of the town like hoodlums for a good while and in the end found ourselves in the abode of a girl we barely knew with several other man-folk, including a cousin of mine, Lawrence.
We drank some more and eventually got asked to leave rather forcibly by the poor girls brother who we didnt realise was trying to sleep. We scarpered fairly quickly feeling drunkenly ashamed of ourselves but seeing a Nativity scene in their neighbours garden we decided on some mindless hooliganism against God to cheer ourselves up.
We stole a sheep.
A plastic sheep mind. I heard it was one of baby Jesus' favourite sheep. Then we put it in the middle of the road, in front of a traffic island so that all the New Years mornings motorists could rejoice at the lamb of God. Oh how we laughed at religions expense. My lungs hurt from laughing and running and we were all tuckered out enough for a good nights sleep. Of course by this time it was already about 6:30am.
As for Christmas, I got a book on Ghandi and booze money. Excellente.
Well I'm going for a hangover nap. You should go and clean up. Really, you look a mess.
capital letters? pfft!
through the technical wizardry that is Pandora i've discovered Art Brut. they formed a band you know. and it is good. it's my birfday tomorrow! 18 eh? that means when i drink it'll be legal! so i'll probably do it less since i'll no longer be sticking it to the man. you know the guy. aye, that wanker. aye, thats it. wait! in other news (no, actual news i mean) the citizens of my townland once again excel at making the country look like scum by making huge bombs...and all just a mile up the road from my living quarters. i swear they're getting closer every time. thankfully that dickhead the man sent in the PD to sort it out. of course some of the wee kids took exception to this and made a huge fire. i just dandered up to take a look and the firemen look edgy. no doubt they are moments away from being attacked by the little'uns. poor bastards."No"
It appears i've been a tad suspended. The fault lies with the librarian who banned me from using the library with the most ridiculous reasoning i've ever encountered in a human being. Anyway I was told to leave and not to come back. I said "No" and sat down. She got the vice-principal. He told me to get out as well. I said no again and ignored him until he suspended me. At this point I resigned myself to my fate. Why bother keep going? Well, I should have. If I could do it again I would and I would have stayed there until the end of the school day. As an act of protest, I'm not satisfied with it. So I'll state my case when I go to the stupid meeting with the senior staff. There's finer details in this story but I've told it so much I'm sick of re-telling it. Whatever. Man, that place pisses me off sometimes.
The End of an Era...Almost
No more class for the kids now. We're off on study leave and will be revising our little black hearts out over the next month or so. The exams are imminent, with some people even beginning tomorrow. To celebrate the end of class a bunch got together and headed out to O'Dowds in Newry...somewhat pre-maturally so, as it took place on Thursday. Baxter, Gormley and Matthew decided to get a head start and left school early. I arrived at Mattys to find these three adventurers and more getting nicely drunk. So I broke open me Stella and joined the in festivities. Just look at the pretty pictures!!! (Photos courtesy of Digney and Lavery)
Baxter relaxin' with a beer
Gorms relaxin' with his
Johnny inspecting his pint
Me...erm...grinning cheesily!
In the priests home. They have a nice wee pad you know.
Baxter squashing my head
Matty likes to drink
The night ended with me and Lavery dandering home trying to find our way to Matthews. Luckily a taxi driver stopped for us and we ended waking up Mattys mum at around three in the morning. Uh-oh spaghetti-ohs! In any case it was a good wee night and we I expect there'll be another before the proper end.
