Category Archives: Random

Sometimes You Just Have To


Have to buy something that is so terrible, it is good.

This is an Official Leprechaun (the Movie) Halloween decoration. It’s one of those hanging thingies, and I don’t have a place to hang it, but it was just SO bad I had to buy it.

I just tossed the elastic over the top of the kitchen door, and it’s still there. Managed to startle iDJ once! Hehehe.

What every Irish household needs! Especially for €2.99. Who of you could resist?



Hubby came home early from the pub Saturday night.

He walked in the door, took a wobbly double take at me sitting in the living room, and promptly told me that I’m not allowed to talk to him because he is a ghost.

He’s a ghost because usually I wouldn’t have the opportunity to hear his random blather for another two hours, and I’d be asleep by then and avoid it entirely.

Somehow being an incorporeal being (instead of just, um, early home) made the most sense to him.

Love that nutter.

Why, Thank You for Your Permission!


We buy toilet paper. TP. Loo roll. Bog roll. Bum wad. Or my new favourite: shit tickets.

Isn’t that great? Shit tickets. I’m so using that next time we run low. “Hey, honey? Buy some more shit tickets next time you are out!”

“Hey, honey? I used too many shit tickets and blocked up the jacks again!” [Jacks being the Irish term for the toilet – of which there are wayyyy too many slang terms for me to list.]

I bet you buy TP, too! Unless you steal it from work. I’m not judging.

What I bet you don’t have is specific instruction on what to do with your new purchase.

I’d never have figured it out on my own. Whew, I can poop now! Thanks!

Brown 25


If you get the title reference, you are officially not a young’in. It’s okay, I’m not a young’in either. We can grow old(er) and more immature together!

This is something I could buy:

Now, it is a charity selling these, and I support that of course. But. But. Butt… “brown drops”? 

Sounds more like something that is coming out of, rather than going into, a digestive system.

I do buy their licourice allsorts, but this one scares me.

*Brown 25. Not safe for work, home, the bus, the train, while eating, on a bicycle, on a chair, in a car, or on a motorcycle. And whatever you do, don’t click on this link to Safety Sam

Ear Ye, Ear ye


Would you like to play a game with me? Yes, it is one of Those Internet Tests – but this one is by NPR, not Buzzfeed. 

This one is called “How well can you hear audio quality?” Now, I’m oldish and all, and I didn’t like CD’s very much when they came out as they sound tinny to me. So there. A record just had more depth, more warmth… more bass. I love the bass. So with that in mind, I thought I would do really well on this test. I enjoyed taking this, despite not being very interested in some/most of the music selections. I got five out of six ‘right’ despite listening on my iPad. How did you do, and how did you expect you would do?

I’ll only tell you which one I got wrong if you play along!

Cows, Trolls, and Windshield (Windscreen) Wipers


I’m going to have to title this after I’m done rambling. My brain is all over the shop! Probably I should break this up and do a few posts rather than dumping everything in my noggin out on the screen and stirring it up to see what rises to the surface. 

I’m going crack open my egg and get out a big wooden spoon to see what happens, anyway.

I had to come to a first-gear-and-hazards-on stop this morning on the way into work, as there was a cow in the road. I immediately learned that they don’t like being honked at – said cow jumped from the side of the road to directly in front of my car. When you drive a Mini, a cow is huge! Hmm. How is the farmer going to know they lost a coo if I don’t honk my horn? Cow is now looking for food on the centre line of the asphalt…honk! Whew, I only had to go entirely into potential oncoming traffic to creep past.

Think my use of hazard lights caught on – the car behind me did the same. I used them again to warn a car coming the other way, too. Irish life!

I am still irritated over some jackass who tried to troll me on FB. I know I did the right thing by not engaging, but the instinct for “I should have said” is strong in me. Probably because I was bullied so much as a kid. The great thing about the Internet is you have plenty of time to come up with those “I shoulda said’s”. The terrible thing about the Internet is that sometimes you have to still keep that shit to yourself as it isn’t worth it. I have no need to explain myself to an aggressive total stranger who took my words entirely out of context and called me an obnoxious narcissist with bad taste in music who bullies others and looks down on other cultures. No, no I do not – nothing I could have said was going to change his mind. But it still pisses me off to no end that someone thinks that about me – or said it to get a rise out of me. 

I felt better for a while, and actually laughed when my only response was ‘Go troll someone else’ and his was ‘take your own advice’. Seriously, he pulled the kindergarten, “I know you are but what am I?” card? So very troll. Fuck him.

Just wish I wasn’t still thinking about it. Wonder if it is a form of PTSD? Not belittling PTSD, don’t get me wrong. It’s just … it’s been days; get out of my head already!

I changed the wiper blades on the car today. Why does that have to be so damn difficult? I can assemble furniture or anything IKEA like a boss – I repair all kinds of weird stuff at work that I’ve never seen before – but those tiny diagrams on the wiper blade box baffled me. I kept the crappy old blades in the car just in case I screwed it up – again. I already screwed it up once, and had to put the rotten one back on. The new bastard was whistling while wiping. Something so common should not take 20 minutes to do!

Right, I think that is enough. I’ll save the plant stuff for another day, when I’m not all stuck in my melon. 

I Think I’ve Been Insulted…


Probably not. Probably they have to ask everyone.

But it didn’t make me happy to be asked if I “want one of the lads to carry that out” just now at the shop. ‘That’ being a 24-pack of beer that I carried to the register in one hand, put on the belt with one hand, and carried out in one hand (until the plastic started to tear).

iDJ says they ask him the same question… so I shouldn’t be frowning right now, right? Or maybe they think he is old and weak, too? I somehow can’t see a 20-year-old lad getting asked the same question.

No blame to the clerk, no hatred and I didn’t throw a strop about it, of course. It’s just a little annoying.