Category Archives: tales of stupidity

What Goes On Tour…

…evidently doesn’t stay on tour, as my girlfriends have been pestering me to write a  post about our recent weekend away to Galway. Now, I’d like to think this is testament to my writing skills and the fact that I’m funny as fuck, but as a group we do like to reminisce about good times, so I feel it’s more a case of them all wanting to have it all noted down somewhere for posterity and those times  when they need a chuckle.

Further more, my memories of that weekend are seriously patchy in part, as my age is catching up with me and I now have a brain that turns to swiss cheese when I’ve been drinking. But here goes…

First of all let me introduce the key cast members*:

Fergie – Co-Lead

Martha – Co-Lead

Leona – Co-Lead

Anne – Co-Lead

Al – The Bar Tender

Lovely Jim

Noah – Boat builder

Hot Dude – a hot, er, dude


Joe – GAA Boy’s Younger Brother

The Krankees – Teeny, tiny couple that we saw everywhere

The Captain

Rowley Birkin QC

The English Rose – Al the Bar Tender’s GF

*All names have been changed to protect the guilty

Now, I’m going to split this over a few posts because it’s just too long to put into one overall post – what can I say, we crammed a lot in.  The chapters will be thus:

Friday – It’s Groundhog Day

Saturday – Coo Coo Ca Choo Mrs Robinson

Sunday & Monday – 15 Hour Party People

Try not to judge… it was probably much worse than I’ve been able to relay here.

iPhone App for Ex-Boyfriends

Remember this girl?

She’d probably love the guy who downloaded this app 🙂

Road Trip!

Woohoo! My girlfriends are coming over this week and we’re all heading to Kinvara, Co. Galway for a weekend of fun & frolics.

Woohoo! Oh, I already said that, but fuck it I am excited, dammit!

I am so ready for a weekend with three of the funniest women on the planet. Sadly one of the world’s other top 5 funny women couldn’t make it as she’s doing a triathlon back at home – I know, I know, she’s mental, but we’re related so you’re not going to pretend to be surprised by that are you?

I like to think we’ll be really cool looking like Alicia Silverstone & Liv Tyler (and another hot mate like, er, Drew Barrymore or something) in the Crazy video, as we bounce over the potholes cruise along the road, but more than likely we’ll be doing stuff like this as we drive along.


Cut loose! Footloose! Kick off your sunday shoes!

Especially as we’re off to a hooker festival!

So, to get to the point (it always takes me a while), I’m pulling together a playlist of songs for us to singalong to. So far, tracks include, the following, but I would love to know if there’s a seriously awesome roadtrip track that you think I’m missing, please leave a comment below…

  1. Needle in a Haystack – The Velvelettes
  2. Black & White Town – Doves
  3. Don’t Stop Believing – Journey
  4. War! – Edwin Starr
  5. The Reeling – Passion Pit
  6. Tribute – Tenacious D
  7. Got to be Real – Cheryl Lynne
  8. Woke Up This Morning – Alabama 3
  9. Summertime Clothes – Animal Collective
  10. The General Specific – Band of Horses
  11. Walk Like an Egyptian – The Bangles
  12. Push It – Salt & Pepa
  13. God Only Knows – The Beach Boys
  14. Hanging on the Telephone – Blondie
  15. Across 10th Street – Bobby Womack
  16. Cancel on Me – Bombay Bicycle Club
  17. The Seed 2.0 – The Roots
  18. Tiger Phone Card – Dengue Fever
  19. Road to Joy – Bright Eyes
  20. Moi je Joue – Brigitte Bardot
  21. Lloyd, I’m Ready To Be Heartnbroken – Camera Obscura
  22. Superstar – The Carpenters
  23. Race for the Prize – The Flaming Lips
  24. Whoo! Alright-yeah… Uh huh – The Rapture
  25. Build Me Up Buttercup – The Foundations
  26. Laid – James
  27. Waterloo – Abba
  28. Dress You Up – Madonna
  29. Boys Don’t Cry – The Cure
  30. Ask – The Smiths
  31. Rudie Can’t Fail – The Clash
  32. Love Child – The Supremes
  33. All I Need To Get By – Marvin Gaye & Tammi Terrel
  34. Womanizer – Britney
  35. Don’t Stop Till You Get Enough – Michael Jackson
  36. You’re so Vain – Carly Simon
  37. No Good Start The Dance – Prodigy
  38. Me & Julio Down By The Schoolyard – Simon & Garfunkel
  39. True – Spandau Ballet
  40. Dog Days Are Over – Florence & The Machine
  41. Afternoon Delight – Ron Burgundy & The Channel 4 News Team
  42. Psycho Killer – Talking Heads
  43. Bette Davis Eyes – Kim Carnes
  44. I Wanna Dance With Somebody – Whitney Houston (that one’s going to hurt a lot!)
  45. Dog Train – The Levellers (a new on on me, but we’ll give it a whirl nonetheless I’m sure!)
  46. …???

So, please let me know what songs you think we should add to the list – it’s a fair old drive, so we’ll need a few.

The light blue ones are the add-ons I’ve already received – thanks guys. More please, we want to be hoarse by the time we arrive 😉

In return I’ll share the embarrassing stories (about them, not me you understand) that occur over the course of the weekend and lead to pics like this and this. And if you’re lucky I might even tell you what the “Mystical Web of Secret Toilet Love Is” – needless to say it is already a Kinvara legend

Can you tell I’m looking forward to this trip much? Hmmm…

I’ve Got You Under My Skin…

I didn’t ask for it. I didn’t want it. I didn’t even start it. But I liked it. It was fun.

And you have got under my skin. And that pisses me right off.

No Weddings & A Funeral

So that was it. My Uncle Dave was gone. Wow!

It was the funeral I didn’t think I’d have to go to for a long, long time. Even with all of the illness of the last few years, I still didn’t think I’d have to go to his funeral. Not for a good few years yet.

My uncle Dave. Always present in my life. My mum’s brother, my cousin’s dad, hell he was almost like another dad to me – I’ve never known a world without him in it. But he was gone and we had to say good bye.

Things being what they are, the whole process of organising a funeral takes a bit longer back in the UK than it does over here in Ireland, so it was scheduled, after much pressure from my Dad upon “The Powers That Be”, for the Friday following his death, which gave me enough time to get home and spend time with the family.

But this wasn’t going to be an ordinary funeral. We hadn’t lost anybody ordinary, so why should it?! My Uncle Dave was a massive Man United fan, as are all the football fans in the family (you get disowned if you try and rebel. You either support United or don’t follow football. Simple as!) So, in honour of this, my Aunt & Cousins asked us all to wear something red to the funeral – as little or as much as we wanted.

The day came and we were all in bits. My Auntie Katreen was holding it together for my cousins, Nicola & Angela. My Dad was holding it together for everyone and I was… well, not holding it together very well at all. Every time I looked them in the eye it set me off. Not like me at all. Those who know me know about my emotional pragmatism. I was mortified that I was crying. I just wanted to be strong for my mum, my aunt & my cousins. So I pulled it together.

Now, one of the things that comes with a large, extended family is family politics. Unfortunately one of the things that didn’t come was a third limo to fit much of the extended family in. So, things being what they are, my sister Colette and I ended up having to follow in my Mum’s car. Nothing wrong with that, I’m happy to go wherever. Before the cars arrived my Dad gave me a quick refresher about driving an automatic and a word of warning about the width of the car – in fairness he had a point, their jeep-type thing is MUCH bigger than my little hatchback. But I’m a fairly good driver so it was all cool.

Then the hearse and two limos arrived and we all agreed what order we would drive to the Crematorium in. Hearse, Limos 1 & 2, my Great Uncle’s driver in the next car, then some cousins in the Bentley, me & Colette in my Mum’s car and then two more cars of cousins. Fine. No problem there.

The time came to leave so Colette and I went to get into the car and wait for the cars to start passing us so that we could join them in the appropriate place. I started the car, put it into “drive” and waited my turn.

Then it was my turn. But the handbrake wouldn’t come off. Fuck! I couldn’t move the sodding car. My sister waved the following cars on passed us as I wrestled with the handbrake that my Dad had wedged so tightly on. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!

I lifted my foot off the break and the car began to move. Phew, I thought, we’ll catch them up in no time. As I got to the junction at the end of the road, about 30ft from where we’d set off, a kind man stopped to let me out. But the car wouldn’t move… the handbrake was STILL ON!


Now I was really panicking. We were going to be so late. My Mum was going to be doing her nut wondering where we were. We couldn’t even phone anyone to tell them what was going on as we’d all turned our mobiles off before getting into the cars. Oh shit, bollocky, arse!

Somehow I managed to reverse the car into a nearby driveway, still with the handbrake on and with the car generally making some very unhappy sounds at me. Needless to say, the tears had come flooding back by this point. I could see my cousins’ cars and my now deceased Uncle’s car – all of which I had driven before and none of which I had the sodding keys to. Shit, tits, arse & shit! I was actually going to miss my Uncle’s funeral at this rate. My Mum would never forgive me. I wouldn’t forgive me. A large scale meltdown was mere seconds away and then, voila! The handbrake came off.

So we ragged it all the way to the crematorium. All 3 miniscule miles of it. I was sweating with panic so the air con was on full, aimed at my forehead and armpits (I was in a grey sleeveless dress and sweat patches would simply NOT do!) as we sped along to try and make it in time. We sped right passed the entrance.

I parked up  as close as I could to the pedestrian entrance (as in I left the car with one rear wheel on the curb and the rear window half open. Could I be arsed to straighten it up – what do you think?) and my sister and I legged it through the cemetary at speed to try and make it in time.

As we reached the brow of the hill & looked down towards the chapel we could see a modest amount of people, and in particular, a woman in a red jacket. Phew, that’s them, I thought. So we ran to join them. But as we got closer I didn’t recognise any of them, there were no cars and we were getting some really funny looks. Oh shit! This isn’t our funeral.

As I turned to look at my sister, I saw some people on the other side of the building… at the entrance to the OTHER chapel. So we ran again. Through bracken, over broken bricks & jumped over a 2ft wall to burst around the corner to find our family, all waiting to start going into the chapel. It was like a bad joke. A scene from a Richard Curtis movie but without Hugh Grant, just me saying “fuck” repeatedly.

Once we had regained composure and my sister had pointed out that my forehead was covered in bits of tissue from where I’d tried to wipe the aforementioned panic sweat from it, we all started to move into the chapel to finally say goodbye to my Unle Dave.

As funeral services go, it was as good as they get. Standing room only and then some – we couldn’t even close the chapel doors so many people had come to say a final farewell and pay their respects. They even had speakers outside. Over 100 people.  Not bad for a man who didn’t really say very much to anyone.

My Dad read a eulogy that had us crying and laughing, as the best eulogies do, and my Uncle’s cousin read a poem. My Aunt & Cousins had chosen some really lovely music to be played during (no hymns though as it was a humanist service) and then to bid him a final farewell the song he’d have loved the most – “Come On You Reds” by Status Quo, the Manchester United song of 1994. Brilliant!

Afterwards it was back to the hotel for the wake. A sit down meal for 100 people and more speeches: a letter from my cousin to her Dad, a goodbye speech from his best mate, a 10-minute speech from my Great Uncle who wasn’t going to make a speech and another impromptu speech from my Uncle’s Cousin. Everyone wanted to say goodbye to the Dave that they knew. Every one of us knew him differently and every one of us was devastated.

I’d stayed up until 3.20 that morning putting together a slide-show presentation of images of my Uncle Dave that were going to be projected onto a wall of the function room. One less job off my Cousin’s to-do list in the run up to the funeral I’d thought – she’s got enough on her plate. Except when I plugged the laptop into the projector and switched it all on it all it had all gone horribly wrong. Everything had either reverted to it’s uncropped state and/or become horribly distorted. Despite a 348th dry-run that morning before we set off.


This cannot be happening to me. Not today, not now, not with this. I’d gladly let it happen to me in 100 client-facing presentations in the future if only it wouldn’t happen with this. But it did. Shit! Fortunately the team at the hotel were really lovely and let me camp out in their office for an hour while I re-cropped every single image. All 143 of them. Panic No. 2 over. Phew! Now to get on with spending time with my family and giving my Uncle Dave a great send off.

And how we did – tears, grief, panics, wasp stings (my sister as we were getting into the car), speeches, wine aplenty (he’d have had it no other way) and family stories being trotted out left, right & centre.

Along with which comes all of my Aunts, Great Aunts, Second Cousins, family friends etc ruing the fact that we couldn’t all get together under nicer circumstances… like a wedding. “Isn’t it a shame we have no weddings planned?”,  “When are one of you lot going to get hitched then?”, looking my cousins, my sister and I in the face when they said it. Jeez people, we’re trying! 😉

And so, we gave him a typical family goodbye after the service, complete with 11 solid hours of drinking, reminiscing, story telling and laughter – lots and lots of laughter. He for one would have cried with laughter at the drama that I went through for him on the day – if I believed in ghosts then I’d be pretty sure that most of it was his doing as it was his sense of humour to a tee!

But we gave him the send off he deserved & one I know he would have wanted. He’d probably be pretty gutted to have missed it.

I know we were all devastated that he had to.

Dave Smalley - Deeply Missed

Dave Smalley - Deeply Missed

A Gaythering Storm

The National Organisation for Marriage in the US, recently broadcast a Public Service Announcement campaigning against same-sex marriage, with the standard blah, blah, blah about faith etc as an excuse for their bigotry.

I’m not going to argue the rights or wrongs of same sex marriage here, it’s a weighty issue and frankly, this blog is supposed to be a light-hearted bit of nonsense.

What I will point out though, is that they think that allowing same-sex marriage somehow puts heterosexual marriages at risk. Now, someone could marry a their dog, or a fucking Real Doll for all I care, and it would have absolutely no bearing upon whether or not I decided that marriage was for me.

Personally I just think they’re worried that all those “gay folk” are going to out-do us straight types with more tasteful, better dressed, and more long-lasting marriages. That’s the real risk as far as I can see – gay men & women just being more successful at marriage than the rest of us, as frankly, we’re not doing tremendously well at it currently, what with almost 50% of marriages currently ending in divorce.

But, it seems I’m not alone in thinking that the NOM PSA is pretty riseable…

I want to skin Sarah Palin & wear her…

…well, no, not ME. It’s just what I imagine this dude really wants to do, given the opportunity.

This initially made me laugh and cringe in equal measure. But actually, no, I think it’s more cringe… er… hmmm…  definitely more cringe. In fact I’m going to go & sit in the shower for about 3hrs to rid myself of the uncomfortable, slightly grubby feeling I now have.

Sorry 😉

Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For…

No, don’t worry this isn’t some kind of mentalist U2 appreciation post. I’ve just had a nosey at the terms that have brought people to my humble little blog and frankly, I’m a little concerned.


  1. “You are actually hot” – er, thanks. Always nice to get complimented
  2. “Knee High Sports Socks”
  3. “Help, the bus driver flirts” – Awwwww, do you not like him because he’s only a lowly bus driver, or is he a 20-stone, gap-toothed, sweaty, comb-over potential sex pest? Don’t be mean to the bus driver. Everyone deserves a little love, even gruesome bus drivers
  4. Funny Hawaiian Shirt
  5. Addicted to flirting
  6. Grey Knickers
  7. Curly Twat – Now I’m not sure if you landed here because I am a curly twat or because… oh, never mind… i don’t btw!
  8. Kylie’s Face
  9. Milky Knickers – wtf? My blog’s not the kind of thing you can buy, used in a Japanese vending machine you know!?
  10. Legs Akimbo
  11. Dude Girls – I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again.  I don’t have a cock, dammit!

Think I need to perhaps watch how I phrase myself in future. Or not, especially when I’ve had literally seconds of fun looking at these bad boys! LMAO! 😀

Chariots of… dire

OK, I’m seriously going to start running & get fit. No, really, I’m serious. Really. Alright, you can stop now… really… stop… well at least put that cup of tea down before you start choking, or shoot it out of your nose or something. Seriously though, I mean it. I am determined to whip my fat ass into shape and find a way to de-stress at the same time.

Now, those of you who know me of old, will be more than aware of how badly P.E. & I got on at school – we were in no way the best of friends. I tended to get picked for things like the Long Jump at sports day, mainly on account of having had a growth spurt early on and being a 5ft 9ins tall 13-year old.

Most team sports and, well, really anything involving a modicum of coordination and/or speed, were just not something that I was very good at. I’d have been much happier working on some quadratic equations or making sure the books in the library were properly sorted in line with the Dewey Decimal system (I wish I was only joking about that last bit!).

The only sports I was any good at were Volleyball, again probably the tall factor kicking in and Trampolining. Not really sure why I was good at that one – I bounce well maybe?!

In addition to my lack of sporting prowess comes a sporadic form of ADD, which mainly kicks in when I go into a gym (a bit like Tourettes when I’m driving). I’m sorry, but fuck me but gyms are BOOOOOORRRING! I walk into one and instantly I can feel my mind becoming restless straight away. 15 minutes on a cross trainer has got to be the equivalent of a temporary frontal lobotomy – drop a section of your brain off at the desk when you pick up your towel maybe?

Well, we’ve established that I’m a raging geek and an impatient one at that, but the fact remains that I need to get fit. And I sure as shit, need to find a way to destress, with the maelstrom of thoughts that are racing through my head at any one time. S0, here goes.

Serious running is the order of the day and who knows, there may even come a time when I can run further than the end of the road without either a) coughing up a lung or b) pretending not to be in quite as much discomfort when cute (and much fitter) boy zooms past me?

Until then, I’m going to crack on and get some miles under my belt, all the while dreaming of a day when I can run for aaaaages with the greatest of ease and also figure out a running outfit that makes it OK for me to wear my American Apparel knee-high socks in public…


…which may or may not be my real excuse for taking up running. Don’t ask me why, but I’m a total sucker for knee-high socks!

The Nuclear Boyz… an update

After several lengthy comment-based debates with the advocates of Kama Lifestyles, and continual pleas from them trying to convince me and others that really, all that they were doing was trying to give guys confidence to approach women and that no, it wasn’t just about getting women into bed, we all sort of agreed to disagree and leave each to their own.

But with this weekend being the date of their next seminar, and mindful of the fact that they’re out with some “in field training” this very evening, merrily teaching men to become sexual predators on the hunt for anything that smells vaguely of easy sex (ahem sorry, clearly I mean building the confidence of shy men) I thought I’d share this video – added as a comment onto one of the previous posts:

Kama Lifestyles in ActionFor more funny movies, click here

Now, I’m not going to enter into any kind of argument about whether I’m right or wrong about these guys again… they’ve pretty much answered it all themselves.