Filed under: drink, muzac, Uncategorized, videos, weekend | Tags: cheeeeese, i hate old computers, musaz
K so it’s Friday night and I’m staying in ’cause I’m po’ – don’t judge me. There’s feck all on the tellybox (well until Michael McIntrye delights us all on Jonathon Ross) so right now, I am entertaining myself with a few tunes on the old school PC down in the back room. Man, it’s cold down here; thank God for this vodka.
Anyhoo, it’s probably at least 3 years since this old piece of poo PC was turned on, and hitting shuffle on windows media player is throwing me up some rather enjoyable ‘classics’.
Strolling down memory lane:
All Saints – Never Ever
The Blow Monkeys – You Don’t Own Me (sometime in the 80′s – google not obeying)
By the way, I am so so tempted to link to the Bette Midler/Goldie Hawn/ Diane Keaton version from First Wives Club ……. that I will:
Amerie – 1 Thing (2005)
embedding disabled – (ballsack)
Audio Bullys – We Don’t Care (2003)
Outkast ft Killer Mike – The Whole World (2002)
The Pogues – Rainy Night in Soho – good choice shuffle; GOOD CHOICE! – (1991)
Deepest Blue – Deepest Blue (2004)
Right, I have to stop there before I fill this entire blog with Youtube vidjas. I could go on all night, but I actually started this post 10 hours ago (this computer is so fucking slow) and I have to watch Michael McIntyre on Jonathon Wossy.
Happy Friday Y’all!
My Weight Watchers class is cancelled. Get in.
I was a bad, baaaad girl this weekend.
Filed under: films, funny, legend of the day, Uncategorized, videos, weekend | Tags: cinemagic, snow, weekend
Snow. SNOW! Yaaaaaaaay!
I don’t know why snow makes me so ridiculously excited but it does. I probably haven’t seen proper snow since the 90′s and it makes me feel like I’m nine years old again. A nine year old with a desk job however.
It’s a nice start to the week though, especially after such a fun-packed weekend. Went to see the Bodies Exhibition on Saturday which was very interesting indeed. I couldn’t quite take in that I was looking at actual corpses – they looked almost plastic to me – but it was fascitinating stuff really. The place was a bit too jammed for my liking though so by the end my inner grump won out so I left and headed up to the coffee area ‘up inside upstairs’ (seriously, the sign says that on one of the main doors – how Irish is that?!). Mr Darragh Doyle has a great post on it here with a lot more detail. The exhibition that is, not the weird coffee sign.
Yesterday morning, myself and himself watched Michael McIntyre: Live at the Apollo. The man is a legend. An absolute legend. I have never laughed so much so early on a Sunday morning. Well apart from Christmas Mass (dodgy folk group ‘singing’).
Lookee here – it’s so true!
Finally, yesterday evening, we managed to get tickets to Slumdog Millionaire in Dundrum. It’s been sold out there every night for aaaages. Unless you got up at four in the morning to book them, you’d be seated practically in the screen but yesterday, we managed to get the last two decent seats. And it was so worth the wait. What a gorgeous, gorgeous film. I am unashamedly jumping on the Slumdog fan bandwagon – I loved it. It’s not perfect of course, but nothing beats walking out of a film with a smile on your face like that.
Right, I’m off to make snow angels. I wish!
Filed under: shopping, weekend | Tags: annie is the biggest wuss alive, christmas, shopping
I had a fight with a paper bag yesterday. Unfortunately, it won.
As if Christmas queues aren’t pleasant enough, I managed to slice my finger open at counter number 6 in Boots. I was laden down with impersonal 3-for-2 gift sets and trying miserably to root out my purse while balancing my hefty shopping bags on one any available body space I had free. Finally, down in the bottomless pit of my handbag, I wrapped my weary fingers around my purse and pulled. As the purse came free , my finger made contact with the sharp edge of a stray shopping bag. I heard the slice before I felt it. Expecting a minor paper cut I looked down at my hand to see a stream of blood pooling down my finger and on to the shop floor. I felt my legs begin to wobble.
Errr, would you have any plasters there please – I besieged the sales assistant.
Panic-stricken sales assistant (in Boots remember, the place where they sell things of medicinal value, including funnily enough, plasters) - Crap, no, I only have tissues here! Really sorry!
- Well, if it’s not too much trouble, could you pass me those tissues and I’ll wipe up the blood on the floor if you wouldn’t mind running out on to the floor and grabbing me a box of plasters and I’ll pay for them of course.
- Ohhhhhhh. Ok.
Christmas shopping should come with a health warning.
Everyone around me is in a great mood today. It makes a happy change from the weekend, when everyone was in a fouler, myself included.
As usual I had great intentions with my weekend, planning visits to town to finish the dreaded Christmas shopping and go for a much needed pint or six. Unfortunately, but not surprisingly, my lazy side won out and instead I pottered around the house, munching on Doritos and hummous. Eventually, I left the couch at roughly 9pm and made my way in to Messers Maguire where much to my liver’s delight, they sell Red Bull Cola which I happily mixed with vodka.
Of course this meant Sunday’s adventures started much later than planned. Through gritted teeth, my wonderful and patient mother dragged me down to Dundrum Town Centre and I managed to buy a whole two presents. A small start, but a start all the same.
Being hungover in DTC is a surreal experience. I’m going to make an obscure TV reference here, but I would compare it to when Buffy has a chip secreted on her by three super-nerds and it speeds up the world around her as she remains at her normal pace. Neato. I felt much the same as the Buffster did; only slower. My feet felt a tonne weight as I forged through the crowds who bumped and bashed my fragile limbs with their burdensome shopping bags. I have the bruises to prove it. Unless they’re from when I hit my head getting out of the taxi the night before…. yep, that’s more likely.
Two presents down, four hundred to go. Next weekend, next weekend.
The ‘R’ word pops up at least 617 times a day doesn’t it? Well, maybe that’s a teensy bit much, but it feels like it sometimes, honest to God.
As a result, I almost can’t bring myself to say the fecking word. It’s practically lost all meaning at this point.
But, for the purpose of these post, I must do a Harry Potter and dare to say it’s name – ree-ces-shun. Recession. RECESSION!
Phew, ok the hard part’s over now. Breathe, Annie, breathe.
It’s obviously affecting most people in varying degrees, some more than others. And as everyone knows, Mr S. Claus is coming to town in three weeks. He’ll be expecting the usual seasons greetings, and he won’t be wanting any Tesco Value biccies. No, it’s M&S cookies all the way for him. Sure, he has a busy night doncha know.
And of course, not forgetting, it’s a certain someone’s birthday on the same day. While we don’t give presents to the birthday boy, we do give them to everyone else on his behalf. Handy really – I mean, what do you give to someone on their 2008th birthday?
I for one, decided to get some of this present malarkey out of the way at the weekend. I took to Grafton Street with vigour, gladly doing my bit for the Irish economy. The street itself was full of people, as one would expect, and when I saw Dave McSavage at the top of the street, roaring questions at random passers-by, I felt the familiar glow of Christmas-a-comin’. But, on closer inspection, most of the punters were free of shopping bags, and there was quite a suspicious lack of queues. I took a stroll across the Liffey and it seemed to be the same story over there. It’s great for me and my claustrophobic hatred of queuing and packed stores but not so good for Mr and Mrs Shop-Owner obviously.
Christmas + recession = fun times (Sarcastic maths is the best)
It feels like it was Friday only 5 minutes ago. Nevermind.
I had a mucho fun weekend. It started with a lazy night in on Friday complete with Chinese from the local take away. So. Good.
Then on Saturday after sleeping in ’til roughly one o’clock, I decided to drag my ass out of bed for a walk up to the farmer’s market in Marlay Park. It was a really nice crisp day and after going for brisk walk around the park, I undid all the good work by wolfing down an italian sausage. Ahem.
After a bit, I donned the gladrags and headed over to a friend’s where we caught the first bit of X Factor before legging it to meet the rest of the girls in Koh for dinner. Yum, yum, yum. I shared the peking duck for starters which was delicious (I could drink their soy sauce/paste, it was pure goodness) followed by the beef chili with sticky rice for the main. The dish was perfect and only spoiled by the fact that I had eaten too much of the duck before hand and couldn’t fit it all in. They have seriously genourous portions there. We topped the meal off with plenty of cocktails, my favourite being the strawberry mule.
After dinner, the night becomes slightly blurred. We popped into Bad Bobs (is it still called Bad Bobs? it’s bad anyway) but realised we’d have better craic back in the house. I never knew so many of my friends could sing, but maybe it was the alcamahol. One of the lads played the guitar until his fingers bled (literally, ugh) and eventually I stumbled home sometime and fell into bed.
There were two songs that were put on repeat that night and as a result, are taking it in turns to play in my brain non stop:
MGMT – Electric Feel (can’t embed, boo-urns)
BTW, while I’ve mentioned MGMT – if anyone had any spare tickets for their gigs on either night in the Ambassador, I will be your bestest friend ever and/or name my first born child after you. Anyone?