February 26, 2010

What a Language!


If I had to say only one thing about the English language, I would say it is "absorbent". After we all have already degusted noums turning into verbs - like the glorious email, "I emailed you yesterday", fax, "Fax me this, pelase", and google (derived from the word googol, - a number represented in base-ten by a one with a hundred zeroes after it. The name was coined in 1938 by Milton Sirotta, the nine-year-old nephew of American mathematician, Edward Kasner), "You have to google this".

In my way to work this morning, listening to the radio, I was surprised when the reporter said "Which ones (hotels) will be NAMAed?", meaning which hotels would be choosen by NAMA to shutdown their activities due under performance.

You know, NAMA is the National Asset Management Agency (NAMA), which will operate as an independent commercial entity under the aegis of the National Treasury Management Agency here in Ireland...

February 12, 2010

In the Immigration Office...


- What do you mean you can't give me the full Visa? Am I not entitled to a 2 years stamp?

- Yes, sir, you are, but your passport is expiring in eight months, so I'll give you an eight months Visa.

- And after that?

- After that you will have to come back with your new passport to stamp it.

- Do I have to pay again?

- Yes, sir, you do.

- Why should I have to pay again if the Visa is still valid for only 2 years?

- You have to pay to imprint...

- Wow, what's so expensive? The stamp? Stamp-pad? Ink? I can provide them if you make it easier...

No answer.

- Why don't you just stamp my 2 years Visa and when this passport expires I just carry it with me, along the new one?

- We can't do that!

- Other countries do...

- We are not other countries. This is Ireland!

- Never mind...

He took his passport with the 8 months Visa. The Immigrant agent typed in his profile: watch out - inquisitor, with an inclination to independent thinking.

February 09, 2010

The Call

Telephone ringing incessantly. Finally, someone picks it up but says nothing.

“Hello?”

No reply yet. He persists:

“Hello, Mary….is that you?”

“There's no Mary here”. She hangs up.

He calls again, sounding more relaxed now:

Silence again.

“Mary, it’s me, Don”.

“Fuck you, Don, my name is Caroline. Mary’s dead”.

“You’re stoned Mary, you said…..”

“Fuck what I said, you viggo!”.

He sighs. She’d crossed a line but didn’t realise…

“Look, I’m not, okay? I’m just trying to be clean and keep you…”

“Don't fucking "keep-me", OK?”

“Look, Mary, I just…”

“I’M CAROLINE!”, she shouts, “Did you hear me? CAR-OL-INE!”

“That’s your hooker-name….are you on the game again?”

“FUCK YOU, YOU BASTARD!, YOU FUCKING PIG…. YOU…YOU…”

He sighs. She starts crying….silently initially….but then getting louder and louder….”

“It’s okay Mary, I’m here….I’m here Babe…”

Breathless crying.

“Look, it’s Saturday night, can I come over?”

“No”. She's crying and sniffling. "I’ve been spaced out for days and I don’t want ya seeing me looking like shit…”

“You don’t look like shit, Babe…you’re my girl, you know that, don’t ya?”

No answer. Crying and sniffling still…

“…and we’ll kick again, Baby, you and me together, you’ll see. So just let me come over…I’ll bring some whites and we can….”

“Fine, but I need some more brown stuff too, ya know?”

“Alright, Babe, for the very last time and we’re all done then, yeah?”

“Yeah, for good…”

February 01, 2010

Getting a bus in Dublin


You have got to be kidding me. There's no services on Sunday for route 239. So, those who live in Blanchardstown and might think about going to Lucan in a nice Sunday morning, just can't. Oh, I'm sorry... yes they can! They just have to spend 40 minutes in a bus to city centre and another 40 minutes from city centre to Lucan...

No, I'm not kidding you!!!