Archive for the 'Blogging' Category

Apologising

Grandad March 13th, 2010

When people cock up, why can’t they admit it?

Our Glorious Government categorically refuse to admit that they fucked up our economy with their tax breaks for builders, and their turning a blind eye to the bank’s activities.  Oh no.  It was the downturn in the global economy that caused our crash and they are all squeaky clean.

Our wonderful rail crowd refuse to admit that they fucked up an inspection of a railway bridge on the main Dublin to Belfast line [which subsequently collapsed].  Oh no.  It was fucking Global Warming!!!!

Our Catholic Church cannot understand why we are annoyed with them for covering up their decades of child abuse, buggery and rape.  It’s the fault of the media, or the work of the devil himself.  It’s nothing to do with them though.  Squeaky clean.

Every daily fiasco in this banana republic is blamed on someone else.  They spend more time trying to find who to blame than they do trying to find the root cause of the problem.

Why?

What is so fucking difficult about admitting you were wrong?

I got a comment on a piece I scribbled last week.  I thought it was spam because of the name of the user – The South of France Guide, and I sent a rather rude reply.  It transpired that they were a genuine commenter, and they wrote to me and said they were not best pleased.  I can’t say I blame them.  I wrote back and apologised, and I hope they accept that apology, though I can’t blame them if they don’t.

I hold my hand up and admit I made a mistake.  I was dog tired on the day, and that is a bad time to make hasty decisions.  I fucked up.

Or there again….

it could have been Global Warming?

Half a million

Grandad March 7th, 2010

Half a million.

That is one huge fucking number.

500,000.

Half a million miles will get you to the Moon and back.

Half a million hours ago, I hadn’t even started in Junior Infants.

Half a million days ago, Ireland was still ruled by the Celts.

Half a million Euro would nearly pay a minister’s salary for a whole year.

Half a million words is two thirds the total output from Shakespeare, or two thirds of the entire bible.

That is a lot of fucking words.

It is the number of words I have written since I started this lark.

I must be mad.

Half a million words

Caring for the elderly

Grandad March 6th, 2010

I must say I am more than a little disappointed.

For reasons beyond my sphere of influence, I was a little tied up yesterday.  I would have been more tied up but Herself always was fucking useless at tying knots.

I had things to do; people to meet and, when you boil it down to the essentials, a life to lead.  In other words, I didn’t have the time or the inclination to scribble on this site.

Now, I knew I was in safe hands.  I knew you would drop by and having found no new material would while away your hours finding those gems that you had missed in the past.  I refuse to believe that you have read everything that I have ever written [even I haven’t done that] , so I can guarantee there are hidden treasures that you have missed.

I finally got around to switching on my laptop last night, and what did I find?

I found that you bastards hadn’t bothered your arses dropping by at all.

OK, there were one or two who had enough of a soul to visit, but the rest of you are just fickle, fly-by-night fair-weather users. Have you not heard all those advertisements asking you to check on your elderly neighbours?  For all you know, I could have been dying here of hypothermia and starvation, but do you care?  Not a fucking jot.

You see, I am now officially an Old Age Pensioner.  I must be treated with respect and reverence.  I must be treated with care and most of all, you need to make sure that I am OK.

Yes, I am disappointed, and more than a little hurt.  I thought you cared, but you are more interested in your fucking iPods and your fucking Facebook than you are in my welfare.

I have a good mind to start charging entry into this site.  By God, but when you have paid your €1,000 per year to visit, you’ll want to get your money’s worth and will drop by whether I have written or not.

I was so disheartened last night that I had to console myself by leaving sarcastic comments on Twitter about Ireland’s entry for the Eurovision which was being voted for on the Late Late Show.

The entries were like you lot.

Pathetic.

Should I wear a gingham dress?

Grandad February 25th, 2010

Where the fuck is everyone?

I used to get a right clatter of visitors from Ireland, which I suppose would be logical.  Second on the list was the Americans, who for some weird reason seem to find some masochistic pleasure in reading my musings.  Then came the UK who never really copped on to this lark, and then finally the rest of the world would dribble in.

For the last few weeks things have changed and I am really fucking worried.

Take today for example.  So far, of all my visitors there are five times as many American visitors as there are Irish.  That is not right.  It is mid morning, so everyone has been at their desks for a couple of hours.  That gives [say] half an hour to do your day’s work, and you should be well into your browsing, viewing porn, playing with Twitter and updating your Facebook by now.  Where the fuck are you?

This is an ongoing trend.  Each day I see that America tops the rankings.  Why?  Have they all decided to learn proper grammar and spelling over there?  Am I now part of the school syllabus?  It is very worrying as I may find myself starting to talk with an American accent, which as we all know is the first step on the road to hell.  Next thing I would find myself insisting on lunch in McDonalds, having to watch TV3 all the time and I would start using words like ‘awesome’ and ‘totally’.   You wouldn’t wish that on me, would you?

I suppose one possible explanation is that the naysayers are right – the Irish “blogging” scene is dead.  Most of the decent crowd have dumbed down their intelligence level and moved to Twitter instead?  I don’t know.

There again, I noticed that the list of nominations for the Irish Blog Awards is huge.  I have never heard of the majority of the sites listed, which would lead one to suspect that there are a lot of people out there giving their sites several names in the hopes of grabbing some limelight?  It’s a scurrilous idea, and I’m just glad that I thought of it before the nominations opened.  I have actually been nominated 327 times under various names and guises, but don’t tell Mulley.

So I’m appealing to all you Irish out there – please don’t let me become Americanised.

And if I don’t appeal to you, maybe if I wear my gingham dress I would be more appealing?

I suppose it’s worth a try?

Favours or not as the case may be

Grandad February 23rd, 2010

I have no objection to doing a favour, particularly if the price is right.

There are limits though.  That Other Eejit had the fucking gall to ask me if he could use my site to write a post about his site.  I told him to fuck off.

Most of you will probably not be aware of his site.  I think it is an invaluable site for the simple reason that it is a benchmark that marks the bottom dregs of the web world.  Compared to that site, any other effort shines.  He provides the ultimate example on how not to write a site, and for that alone, the world owes him a debt of gratitude.  Heh!

For the last couple of days, he has been moping around the place complaining that no one ever visits, and he has discovered that it’s because the search engines won’t refer anyone to it.  He has never had a single visit as a result of a search.  Who says search engines aren’t intelligent?  Hah!  He wanted to write here to ask peoples advice and that’s when I threw him out.  I told him that if he wanted to ask for help, he should do it on his own site [where no one will ever see it] and he got very upset.

Of course the reason no one ever visits his site is very simple, though I’m not going to tell him.

Every time he’s not looking, I take his site down.

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