Punctuate This

Proper nerdy little EFL teacher thing here.

Punctuate this sentence to turn it into a logical (if cumbersome), grammatically-correct sentence:

He said that that that that that man said was correct.

Yep, five thats.

First to get it right earns my undying admiration.

And sure I'll probably nominate you for an oul' blog award or two while I'm at it.
Even if you're not a blogger.

The worst job in Ireland...

...is working the late shift in any 24 hour petrol station. I tell you, only the freaks, the gurriers and me need to buy their petrol late at night. Except apparently most people are there because they are stoned beyond belief. So now poor old Kurawski (who's rapidly starting to wonder why he followed his brother's advice and gave up dental studies in Krakow to chase the mighty Euro in Ireland) has to wander all over the shop tracking down the myriad goodies one requires after a little too much Colombian on a Wednesday night.

"Yeah 3 strawberry Yops...no, not the fuckin' strawberry and vanilla ya muppet. Yeah and Doritos. Did I say I wanted the orange ones, did I? The fuckin' blue ones, Jesus! And a bag of Meanies...they're crisps, man, crisps. No, that's not everythin', I told ya I wanted a blackcurrant Lucozade Spor', you shoulda got that when you were after being at the fridge before. Yeah, and fuckin' blue Rizlas man, the red ones are shite. Fuck's sake chap, it's not difficult. No, I didn't get any petrol, do I look like I fuckin' drive? Ah, did ya not get the chocolate milk when you were back over at the fridge? Fuck's sake man, youse need to go back to Romania."

No Values Voters

After being reminded of its genius the other day in a post by Anthony, I started scouring The Onion for more tasty satire. This one struck me as particularly good, maybe because I think it's only a smidgeon away from reality.


'No Values Voters' Looking To Support Most Evil Candidate

And fuck it, it fills up space and keeps this thing going while I'm still pretty much idealess. If only some other prick could write something horrible about Africa to get me all wound up.

Monday evening

Fibreglass Links

Just saw that Mulley has been challenging people to come up with their own fluffy links, as he's been travelling.
That wouldn't generally be my kind of thing, but I do like to point people in the direction of new and newish blogs, as that's what they need to get going. I've certainly benefitted greatly (and continue to benefit) from getting a push here and there from other bloggers with a larger readership.

So to that end, I will once again usher you in the direction of Little Miss at Slyscribe. She's recently written some very good posts about some of my favourite subjects, such as insomnia, fudge, frustration at job interviews, and, erm...periods. Which is nice. Or not, apparently.

My favourite way of finding new blogs is to click on the URLs left by commenters on the various blogs I read whose pages I'm not familiar with, particularly if I like the way they've expressed their opinion. It was by doing that very thing on Bryan Mukandi's blog that I discovered Narocroc. His/her inaugural post reminded me a bit of my own, but i noticed that they had written it in January and then never followed up with a second one. I figured if they needed to take six months or so to get their thoughts in order then the following posts were bound to be good. And, after a quick kick up the arse, Narocroc has decided to write more. It's early days, but I can generally tell if I like the cut of someone's gib or not. And I think they'll make a fine sailor.

Also, she really doesn't need my help in any way, but Annie's blog is absolutely terrific right now. And she's nice about mine, which makes it even better.

Then check out Lottie's blog before her rapidly impending URL change, after which we're all going to have to pretend we don't know her real name any more. It's Liz everyone, LIZ. She doesn't like Elizabeth. Or Lizzie. Or Shitface. Funny girl.
I'll say no more so she doesn't poison my cocktails on Saturday.

Hope you enjoy those.

Fibreglass links: Like fluffy ones, but more painful when you rub them on your face.

It's Not What You Said, It's How You Said It.

I’ve dilly-dallied for a while over whether or not to respond to the words of Kevin Myers over the past week or so and finally decided that I may as well say a few words, if only to try to get the feeling of extreme annoyance that I’ve had since I read his piece off my chest. I was away at Oxegen the week before last and so I was a little shut off from the outside world and therefore blissfully unaware of Myers’ piece until I saw Bryan Mukandi’s response to it for the Irish Times, linked to on his blog. I’m glad that Bryan was given the forum of the newspaper to express his views but, in a way, it’s a shame that it took an African to be the one to publicly denounce Myers. Every right-thinking Irishman should have been lambasting him for such a shameful display of racism. For that is what it was.

To clarify, I don’t entirely disagree with Myers’ central thesis that “self serving generosity has been one of the curses of Africa”. Pouring money into Africa without being sure of where it’s going is no help at all, and is liable to end up in the wrong hands, most likely those of one of the many despotic, Mercedes-chauffeured, fat dictators who have so much of the continent in their stranglehold. In a pre-emptive strike against those who might accuse him of being uncaring, Myers is at pains to point out that he has been to Ethiopia and has been hit in the pocket by forking out for these ungrateful little bastards. Well Kevin, I have been to Tanzania, Kenya and Uganda and therefore take huge umbrage against his talk of how “the wide-eyed child we saved, twenty years ago, is now a priapic, Kalashnikov-bearing hearty siring children whenever the whim takes him”. Like many of you, I had to reach for the dictionary for the word ‘priapic’. It means:

1. Of, relating to, or resembling a phallus; phallic.
2. Relating to or overly concerned with masculinity.

So Myers is either calling the men of Ethiopia a bunch of dicks or, more likely, he reckons they are overly macho. Yep, macho, gun-happy, promiscuous idiots - that’s how Ireland’s best-known columnist chooses to characterise the men of an entire nation. That, Mr. Myers, is nothing but cheap and pathetic racism. An intelligent man like yourself should really know better than to tar an entire nation with such a disgusting slur. And that is why you have been reported to the Gardaí by the Immigrant Council of Ireland.

Of course, he doesn’t stop there, choosing also to brand the entire country of Somalia as “another fine land of violent, Kalashnikov-toting, khat-chewing, girl-circumcising, permanently tumescent layabouts.” So that’s two huge nations dismissed with a sweep of the Myers’ pen. Truly shameful. It is this kind of crass, vile language being applied to pretty much an entire continent of people that leaves Myers without a leg to stand on. I'm bored with his article by now, but he also suggests that malaria "is one of the most efficacious forms of population-control now operating". It's also a particularly horrible way to die Kevin, but you don't need to worry about that, I suppose.

I am not a self-righteous hippy. I am not a politically-correct puritan. But I fail to see why anyone should have to listen to that kind of bile-filled, hateful crap from anyone in the mainstream media, and that is why I will not be buying the Independent again for as long as Myers is in their employment. Kevin Myers, you are not Jonathan Swift and this is not a Modest Proposal. You are a shock hack and this is an indecent proposal.


Update: When writing this piece I completely forgot to throw in a link to another response to Myers I came across that I really like. It's from bodhránbanger and it's called 'Why Kevin Myers is No Longer a Journalist'.