buckweeds

No rhyme on the horizon

2009-10-19T14:35:00.000-07:00

Its been a while but now I'm back
I'm a little rusty so cut me some slack

I started this blog 2 years ago
in times of prosperity and good cash flow
Oh how things have changed in that space of time
No more cheap beer or flowing wine
When I started this blog I was chubby and lazy
credit card overdraft nothing would phase me
but now with a mortage and pay cut beside it
the strains on my face and I just cannot hide it
Coz u see this whole countrys gone to rack and to ruin
and the sweet IMF will be calling us soon.
It feels like its death by a thousand pay cuts
every window and door in the local branch shuts
No more vhi no more fancy party
no more going to work late and listening to marty
Seems like were stuck and theres nothing to do
oh why did we flush our success down the loo
no money for gym so I'll just have to jog
spend my evenings writing this silly old blog..

bugzilla

2007-11-07T13:58:00.000-08:00

It terrible, really, really really terrible. I've been sick for two weeks. Initially it was a tummy bug. That was very nasty , I wont go into detail but I genuinely feared for my immediate future while I had it such was the wickedness of this nasty bitter twisted bug. It started on the Tuesday. I went to see the very pleasant and helpful nurse at work, writhing in agony and clearly in great distress. We discussed what was going on at length. She said she didn't wish to be crude, I replied I didn't wish to be sick so she could discuss the issue in as crude a manner as she liked as long as we came to some kind of acceptable solution. We couldn't do much to solve the problem. Time was the great healer which was unfortunate as I felt at that moment I didn't have much of that particular commodity left for me on this planet. I missed out work on the Thursday. Now I really did think I was in the departure lounge on that particular day but I made it through just about.

I had a wedding on the Saturday just as I was seeing the light at the end of that particularly dark and terrifying tunnel. I was afraid to eat and terrified to drink. I managed a little of both , just a little. Which was just as well as my 4 year old son came down with a chest, throat, ear infection etc.. the next day and required much soothing and tender care. So this care was provided at a cost to us all. Suddenly my wife, Michael and I all had the same bug. Stuffed up, coughing, sneezing and spluttering and a headache that lasted longer than a builders holiday.

Sure there was medicine. Suda this and broncho that. But you know what? none of it works...None of it. I could have swallowed the whole stinking lot of the cough medicine, bottle, cap, spoon and all and it would have been as effective as a mackerel riding up a steep gradient on a rusty bicycle with no tyres.
Hey I could have filled a bathtub with the stuff and swam and frolicked in it for days and it still wouldn't have made a blind bit of difference. It does taste good though. I will give it that much. I could drink bucket loads of it such is my fondness for its sweet taste and sticky texture. And again I wonder if it would have made any difference whether I had or not. Might have got a bellyache again.

At the same stage I wasn't prepared to try the old wives cure either as I couldn't find a donkey perched on top of a big enough mountain to sit under so I just had to see it out. Things have improved but I'm still a bit congested and cranky. No more sickness now. I deserve a clean bill of health and a period of calm. Next time I go for drinkies I'm gonna try a new type of drink. Cough medicine and vodka. It'll taste great and have no effect on me except maybe make my phlegm feel looser and my head light.

ah ah ah ah choooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.
Excuse me!! see ya'll later

Plane Crazy

2007-10-09T13:24:00.000-07:00

I have just come back from new york where I celebrated out first wedding anniversary with my lovely wife. We had a fantastic time and had many adventures and laughs there. My first time there, it was a fantastic, wonderful , disturbing and daunting place. The lights , the noise, the people its a living, breathing, changing city. Its rude, friendly, seductive and ugly all at the same time. But the first thing that struck me about it is that its an old city. A lot of the buildings and structures are old. Theres nowhere to build so people just recycle and reuse whats already there. It has an old soul. You can feel it when you walk the streets down in Soho or in Greenwich. You can feel it when you stroll down broadway and almost imagine the shows and people that have come and gone over the years. You can still see it even in department stores like Macys where the wooden escalators still operate efficiently as the day they were commissioned many moons ago. New york changes continually too old neighbourhoods become trendy new areas for the young and ambitious. But the buildings don't tend to be demolished and rebuilt, rather just renovated and rejuvenated.

I was in Time Square during the day and I was there at sundown. Its brighter and tackier at night and seems to take on a different shape. During the day you have tourists and new yorkers pushing and shoving , a wave of movement and noise. Yellow taxis swerving and racing between lanes everyone who sits in their cars in unseasonal 85 degree heat beeping horns, gesturing at each other, and screaming obscenities.

At nite you see theatre goers on Broadway or people just visiting time square to see the city in all its cycadelic glory. Its a neon monster, loud and bursting with colour and movement. Sensory overload , just too much to take in. Do I look at the billboards or at the pubs and restaurants or the people queueing for the late nite musicals? No bums or beggars aloud on times square. They are shoved to the outskirts of the city or into dark unused alleyways where they are out of sight and mind.

I saw all the sights, attended a show on broadway, ate enough food to feed a 40 ton killer whale and enough red meat to become natures most notorious and fearsome carnivore. I loved it and hated it at the same time. Would I live there? No I don't think so. Its a great city but I wouldnt bring my family to live there. Its just too busy and something is lacking. I still don't know what it is but I didn't feel the same way about it as I did about Vancouver which I visited last year. Now theres a city that has beauty but it also has that something that makes you want to return there. I felt the same way about Sidney.

I will return to New York again though as it does have a certain something that makes you want to go back again for a visit.

Now having travelled to JFK to get on the flight nice and early we discovered it was delayed as a generator was to be changed for the engines. Alarm bells ring so loud I still hear them 2 days later. Ok I thought this is just fantastic. We are about to become guinea pigs for the latest engine fix. How will the fix be tested? Sure we'll put 200 people into a cylindrical tube full of tonnes of fuel and see what happens. Putting dark thoughts out of my head I was determined to get home after the three hour delay. In the plane we had seats by the emergency exit. The air hostess told me we would have to help out in the event of an emergency. Sure I said smiling back at her.
I muttered to my wife under my breathe "Ill be the first thing that goes out that door and no one or no thing is gonna get in my way.
On the runway we were then told that there was an emergency landing inbound. fire engines , ambulances etc all lined up eagerly anticipating their next arrival as it spluttered and choked its way home. So another hour on the taxi apron waiting to take off.

So I thought to myself ok its bad enough as it is but it can't get any worse. Then the air hostess who was sitting next to me rang the captain saying one of the passengers had heard a grinding noise as we taxied to the runway. Thats it I thought , were dead. The plane is going to take off and then fall out of the sky. The captain said he was going to move the flaps up/down and see if he could reproduce the noise. It appeared the jerky passenger was satisfied that this was the noise in question. I wasn't convinced but said nothing as the sweat droplets formed on my creased forehead. Then the captain came out of the cockpit and gave us all a rousing pep talk.

"Its ok, I've being flying for 25 years, I would never put you in danger etc" "I'm used to long haul flights, this one is so short I don't think I'll even bother to retract the landing gear." I thought to myself you might very well need that landing gear soon as you make a quick 180 and call in the emergency services to await your untimely reappearance on runway 24 or its immediate surroundings.

Well everyone clapped and laughed at the captains jokes as he told us he was now all pumped up and excited about the flight but that he wouldn't be attempting any loop the loops so not to worry folks" I'll tell ya I did a few f***ing loop the loops in my mind before we got off the ground. And we did get off the ground , else you wouldn't be reading this right? And we got back on the ground quite comfortably at Shannon. But every time I heard a sound as we cruised at 35000 feet I thought it was old Mr. generator about to announce his retirement with immediate effect and without pension or endowment policy to speak of.

And of course gliding a 757 with no power from halfway across the atlantic to touchdown at Shannon was something even the most optimistic of punters could not envisage. Of course I had a plan b for such an eventuality. The plane would glide gently to the ocean floor and I would grab the wife shoot down the slide and use a floating suitcase as a raft til help arrived" Gotta stay positive right?

When we touched down at shannon the relief was palpable amongst everyone on the plane. Clapping of hands and cries of relief all around. I remained composed and calm throughout. The air bridge moved into place, not towards the front or back door but the emergency door and you know what I was the first out after all!

Bits and blogs

2007-09-09T12:56:00.000-07:00

Its been a while since I put fingerprints to plastic but I'm back. Went to my sisters 21st last week in town. Never in my life have I waited so long for service at the bar. Getting a round cost me 25 minutes of my life every time I went to the bar. I found myself humming the tune to any dream will do but to different lyrics. "I'm at the bar waiting for service, I don't deserve this , any drink will do. I need a beer and a glass of white wine, Please before its home time any drink will do ...

Other than my attempt to write Irelands next eurovision entry it was a pretty good nite. But the bar is appaling. I attempted to liken it to santa ponzas finest nite club in a smelly dank corner of cork. Disco lights everywhere, loud music and no liquid sustinance to sooth my jangled nerves. At one point my friend and I inquired as to whether we could get a beer at the back bar only to be told there was no draught beer. We laughed loudly and bitterly. The young barman looked at us like a rabbit caught in the headlights. Ok I said I'll have a bacardi and coke. Sorry we don't have any bacardi. More bitter laughter, the recriminations would come later.

My sister had a great nite though and thats the most important thing. I won't go back to santa ponza again though for fear I might die of thirst. We retired to my friends house thereafter and polished off two bottles of champagne like people who had been stranded for a week in the desert without a drop of liquid.

Went to chambers last nite for a 30th and discovered that the service was a little better but not much. I've switched my beer from budweiser to carlsberg. I noticed I was getting fairly bad headaches lately after a few buds so tried the carlsberg. I won't go back , not because the headaches are lessened but because it tastes much better. I just don't understand why I should have to suffer a headache for a few pints.

I've taken the first steps towards resolving the issue though. I now take a litre of water up to bed with me after a skinful. Its comforting to know its there. Next step now is to actually drink the water before going to sleep. I need to make that particular leap of faith but you know after a barrel of ale and a filthy kebab with blocks and curry you tend to need to get to sleep fairly quickly before the heebie jeebies get ya and they do get ya but its normally the next day. I have to say though I havn't been ill from alcohol in a very long time. I guess I must know the one thats one too many after all. Is it that I am more responsible now or is it that my age has caught up with me? Now I get to a critical point in the night where its time to make a beeline for the kebabi and get a cab before the clubs all close and vomit there stomach juices out onto our streets. I call it kebcabbie time and with good cause.

I always regret the kebab and the one I have also eaten when amyone in my company goes to the loo and leaves a trace of kebab behind them. The place I eat is a filthy dive of a foodhole but I love the juicy , spicy kebabs too much to care. I havn't actually ever tasted a kebab sober nor do I intend to. Yes I lead a double life the sober one and the tipsy macstagger one where the bright lights and pungent smells of spicy food lure me into the murky underworld of fast filth.

I have a bad gut. It doesn't like me and I can't blame it for the abuse I've put it through over the years, but its revenge is a terrible one. Feeling nauseous half the time for no reason is not a good way to be. Not to worry a little beer'll put out that fire.... or perhaps a kebab will keep those home fires burning.

sleepless nights

2007-08-11T08:59:00.000-07:00

A friend of mine and his wife (who did all the hard work) just had a baby and how his life has changed already. Hes tells me hes been up all night with the child since she came home. I sympathize with him. I know what its like. It changes your world completely. Children are fantastic but sleepless nights are not so great. I remember it well. Being woken up countless times and going to work exhausted, eyes hanging out of your head, like two pissholes in the snow, lack of coordination, yawning all day, not thinking straight and wishing you were a toasty cinnamon bun wrapped up in your duvet dozing peacefully while the rain patters against your bedroom window.

First time parents never know what hits them when baby arrives. The crying, wailing newborn is king or queen of the household and all it surveys. Bottles lie awaiting sterilization, tins of milk powder clog up the kitchen worktop and bags and bags of nappies are always within reach. Theres never time to rest even when the child is asleep you have to wash bottles, clothes , get more milk ready and a load of other things so you end up in a daze.

A trip to anywhere requires the planning equivalent of invading a small country. Supplies, blankets, bottles, car seats , babygrows, buggys etc have to be brought along. But the car is the last refuge of a desperate parent who can't get the wailing bundle of joy to nod of into the land of Zs. The motion of a 4 wheeled vehicle seems to sooth baby. Indeed I remember when my son was a few weeks old he would cry when we stopped at a red light and then nod off again on green. But its the nights that hurt the most. The terror and horror of anticipation that on a dark winters nite you will be running accross the landing every hour to try and get the child to sleep.
It gets to the point that you wake up before the baby in anticipation. I wouldn't sleep either \when the little one didn't wake because I was expecting him to do just that.
Once the child starts to sleep it gets way easier. And of course they are so much fun because they are\likely to say the funniest things. Like my younfella. "Dad , How time are you collecting me?"

How time indeed.

later...

Tickled pink

2007-07-15T13:57:00.001-07:00

It started out like romeo and juliet but it ended in tragedy. It was a pleasant summers evening in killarney. My wife and I had decided to spend a relaxing weekend there. On our arrival at a guest house that we have stayed in manys the time we pressed the buzzer on the door. A voice crackled over the intercom. "Hello who's there?" My wife replied "We have a room booked for Daly" There was a long silence. Then a muffled voice replied "Hello?" My wife said loudly into the intercom "Hello are you going to leave us in?" The voice replied hesitantly "Where are you?" My wife retorted "We are outside your front door speaking to you on the intercom that you are speaking to us through" She was well pissed off now. I was bemused. I half expected Basil Fawlty to jump out of the bushes at this point. An old lady suddenly appeared and let us in. She was minding the place while the owner was out. She was convalescing there (in her own words).She showed us to our room and as I gently coaxed her out of the room and closed and bolted the door I realized that I needed a beer urgently.

We went to a hotel bar accross the road from the guesthouse. It was empty save a few strays and a guy setting up his guitar for the nights entertainment. I bought two pints at prices that were absolute extortion. OK I thought at least now I can relax and talk to Sinead. The guy on the guitar started playing. It was ok at the beginning really it was. Then he took on a song that was way beyond his fragile ability. I had noticed that he started with few numbers that were singable in general. No doubt he was thinking "I'll warm them up with a few easy songs and then hit them with the big one. And hit us he did like a sledgehammer hits a soft boiled egg. It was simply reds "Holdin back the years" Thats a difficult song. I would say I am a fairly good singer. I'm no Sinattra but I can hold a tune. I would never attempt that song as I know its way beyond me. It was so far beyond him he couldn't have reached it if he was travelling in the space shuttle" He didn't so much as hit the high note but slammed into it like a 747 landing on your front lawn. As he finished out the song to the strains of "I'll keep holding on" I thought yeah you do that but I'm off to the bathroom as your not so much holding to as pinning back my ears!

He lost his voice after attempting that song. He now sounded like a sack of angry cats that had been thrown over a high wall into a garden of mousetraps. We had to endure him and some drunken English girls dancing around in front of him while we downed our beer and left.

The next day was better. I was hungover and had lost a good portion of my hearing but we managed to hire bikes and cycled through Killarney national park. Sure I was as unsteady as a spotty teen after a glass of west coast cooler on graduation night and I had swallowed 12 ounces of blackfly but I got the hang of it and a bottle of ballygowan washed my black fly risotto down a treat. It was great fun.

A sumptuous meal was had that night in Foleys steakhouse restaurant , an expensive but fantastic eatery. The bloody fillet on my plate didn't stand a chance. Pink was playing in Killarney that night and the place was thronged. I didn't realize it was going to cost me a good few hours sleep that night. There was a bunch of teenagers staying in a room over ours. They were at the concert and came into the guesthouse at 2am after a feed of drink. They slammed doors, ran up and down stairs, sang and shouted til 430am. I was livid. Why wasn't the owner telling them shut up or ship out? They were also awake at 9am thundering up and down stairs and making a nuisance. I'm shattered and I feel cheated out of my hard earned cash. I had decided that I would not drink saturday nite so that I could wake up fresh and full of life sunday morning. Instead I looked like a guy that had just had a litre of discount store shampoo poured into his eyes only then to have them wiped with a vinegar soaked cloth.

I enjoyed the weekend with the wife but I will not be frequenting the guesthouse again, the next time a guy sets up with a guitar I shall hit him over the head with it and leave. I will not stay in a town or city where a big concert is being held. To add insult to injury we headed over to the nike store today to buy a jersey for our son. The front door was blocked by hungover teenage girls vomiting and the smell of stale beer and other unmentionable odours filled the air.

Tickled pink I was not!!

later...

the rare old times

2007-07-12T11:53:00.000-07:00

Its been an interesting week. I remember when I first started my old job I spent many a happy day in the lab swapping cables, plugging in chords moving equipment about, installing software and looking into machines. It was great fun and as my jobspec tumbled downhill in later years into a stinking quagmire of documentation and process and corporate clack, my hopes came tumbling after. I never thought I'd get back to the good old days but this week I was proven wrong. I can't remember the number of reboots and cable swaps , installs that were done but it was great and it was all being done on a building site. Its great, see I'm not complaining today at all. As I speak the guards are searching the trees in front of my house for drunken teenagers, drugs or something more sinister. I best go outside and have a look.

If I'm not back in a few days avenge my death.

I am the walrus

2007-06-28T10:37:00.000-07:00

Its been a week where doors have fallen out of the sky and buses have careered down hills, out of control and full of screaming women. Yes a helicopter door detached itself from its mothership at 150 feet above the fields of salthill and with more swerve and dip than a drunken teenager after a sip of babysham it bounced and landed on a bunch of unsuspecting and undeserving plane spotters.

Lets face it the expression "You could be hit by a bus tomorrow" is an oft used phrase but thankfully rarely happens though unfortunately has in the past. But the last thing you expect is to be flattened by a bouncing door which has just fallen 150 feet out of the sky. And just like Wim Kiefts goal against the boys in green in 1988 it was the bounce that did the damage. Having said that if it had been a direct hit there would have been considerably more damage to anyone in range of the falling debris. But as the say "when a door closes another one opens (and falls on your head)" Had it been me in the direct path of said falling object I would have phoned my solicitor before impact, asking him if it was financially worth my while to stay in the line of fire.

I'm sure the people involved will be suitably compensated and deservedly so. However before I leave the comfort and safety of my home every day now I will add to my list of checks a quick look up into the heavens for falling doors.

We got a new bathroom suite in this weekend. Whenever you flush the toilet it sounds like a tsunami wave is approaching you at speed. I think somethings wrong, as a matter of fact I know it is. I had better get out the lie low tonite to sleep on so at least if theres a wall of water coming from the loo during the nite I will float along safely on top. I have also taken my sons armbands out just in case he too feels like a swim during the nite.The bath looks good though you could bathe an elephant in it if you had an elephant and he wouldn't even have to get his ears wet. I think I bought it with my former size and weight in mind. Two years ago I was quite chubby and rememeber thinking of myself lying by the pool in spain lounging like a walrus by the pool edge, rolling into the water every now and again to cool off my gigantic hungover hide. I am no longer of that build but do not rule out attaining that girth again hence the tub is a safe option to cover the water displacement. It will cost a fortune to heat the water to fill it though so we'll see how it goes.

Well I'm off take care and remember look out for stray buses and falling helicopter doors.

sore heads

2007-06-24T07:32:00.000-07:00

It was a long alcohol filled evening. Everything hurts. I don't remember much but I do think I ate a kebab and then someone elses kebab also. I'm off the drink again til next saturday. I knew the one that was one too many so I had ten too many instead. I think I was drinking baileys shots at the end of the night. I don't drink that stuff . It tastes like cough medicine but my phlegm does feel looser today. I'm watching Tom and Jerry with my son now. Its a good way to pass a hangover filled afternoon but he's getting restless and wants to go places and do stuff.

I'd better finish up as I'm too tired to be funny or witty. I guess youre thinking I must be tired a lot then right?

I havn't shaved in three days and my eyes are like two pissholes in the snow.
Actually gotta run. I feel a bout of nausea coming on. Gotta go cry ralph. Baileys kebabs are about to make an entrance.

Cheers indeed
Alan

Working to the bone

2007-06-23T11:56:00.000-07:00

What a day. I went down to the in laws at lunchtime and helped my father in law (aged 65) to dismantle their 3 piece sweet and carpets to get ready for new furniture and carpets. It was bloody hard work. I have a fairly open minded approach to physical labour in general. I leave it alone and it leaves me alone. A three piece suite normally means one thing to me. Laydown (not lay bor) wearing string vest and tracksuit pants, surround onself with beer cans and turn on the footie. Only leave couch to use the bathroom or to get more cans. If you can get someone to do both of these for you your a better man than I am. Thing about this couch tho was every time I sat or lay on it there tended to be a ripping sound and I sank deeper into it. Thats was ok as long as I could still reach my beer without getting up off the couch or shifting the two dogs lying comfortably on my beer gut. But a beer fuelled day in a string vest covered in dog hairs was not to be.

But I did discover today that even though I would break a solid steel cup in a room made of bubble wrap, that I have a forte in manual labour if you mean by that destroying things. Its all about breaking things and creating a mess. I had an axe and a hand saw and I can tell you I left a lot of devastation behind me today. I swung that axe so much and used that saw with such ferocity that I have a bicep in my right arm twice the size of the left (no crude jokes please). I don't have the strength to lift a pint tonite so I'll just stick my face into the glass and see what happens. More breakage I suppose. The other thing that struck me was the strength of my father in law (for his age). I wouldn't like to bump into him in a dark, or any other kind of alley. I reckon if I make it to 65 I'll be lucky to be able to feed myself without a straw. In fairness to him he was working away hard while trying to keep an eye on me so I wouldn't sever a limb with the damn axe and I came close a few times. I did a bit of cleaning up myself yesterday. Got a skip and piled it high with rubbish. Its just as well my wife is away this weekend or I probably would have ended up being thrown out as well. But its gone now and so is the 300 yo yos I had in my pocket.

There's bonfires lighting everywhere tonite and my little son is telling me not to breathe.
Its an interesting one. Maybe i'll hold my breath til I pass out, see what happens. People are dragging stuff up to the bonfire. 3 piece suites, washing machines, dead bodies that kinda stuff.

I drove past one which was fairly close to the road and just hoped the car wouldn't ignite with me in it. I made it just. Its amazing how stupid people can be around bonfires. One guy was putting this big pile of rubbish (northern bank notes) onto the fire practically walking on the flames. He come back down of the pile smouldering with his comb-over singed to nothing. Another idiot had a can of petrol next to the fire waiting to throw it on at the next available opportunity. Almost had himself up for a darwin award with that one.

Ah well the home fires are burning tonite , we'll not see them lit again in our time (hopefully)

Saw you later

axeman

Nothing Hill

2007-06-19T11:51:00.000-07:00

I applied for a job in a location at the top of a big hill some time back. Its near the airport. Whats that you say? "Who would build an airport on top of a hill?" Thats right 600 feet above sea level with cross winds that can lead to more aborted landings than trips to the toilet after a burrito"
But more about brown envelopes and high winds at a later date.

I got suited , booted and bought some new climbing gear. I arrived at reception, having avoided the herd of mountain goats, sporting a high altitude nosebleed and a touch of frosbite. There was noone at reception so a friendly employee passing by let me in. I looked around the building. "Hmm Nice clean place , no silver fish. I could be very happy here".

I was eventually approached by someone and led to the interrogation cell. I was interviewed for 2 hours. The people were pleasant enough and I thought it went well enough. "So we'll let you know in two weeks" they said. As I secured myself back in my harness and began my descent I would have been forgiven for giving myself a 50-50 chance.

Did they spot the ice axe in my suit pocket or crazed look in my eye? When they asked where do I see myself in 5 years time should I have refrained from telling them that I hadn't yet managed to turn my toaster into a time machine? I was asked questions in the form of "Tell Me about a time when" Ridiculous in the sense that not everyone can recall a time when they were upset because a work colleague got his quality white badge before them or needed counselling because the pizza machine in the canteen was broken. I found myself making stuff up to answer these ridiculous questions. "Well I was bored one day at work so I came up with a solution to deliver world peace and put an end to hunger and poverty"

Days went by, then weeks then months but not a word from the house on the hill. I was in two minds whether I wanted to go there in the first place and only put my CV in after a conversation with a former manager who suggested its better than nothing. Nothing at the time sounded ok to me. After all I had been doing nothing for a few weeks at that stage and I had nothing against nothing, I quite liked it and it quite liked me. After all if you are doing nothing you can't be blamed for or expected to do something and as King Lear himself pointed out Nothing will come of nothing. Well nothing was coming from the house on the hill either.

I didn't get my PFO til yesterday 3 months later. I came home saw a little white envelope with my name on it and picked it up. I opened it up. "Dear (insert name here) thank you for your interest in our esteemed company. you were (Successful/Unsuccessful) in your attempt to secure employment in our esteemed company. Your skillset (matched/ Did not match) our requirements and we (will/will not) be hiring you at this time.

We wish you the best of luck in (your future career/ in your new job at our esteemed company)

Sincerely
(insert name here)

And it didn't matter in the sense that I have since miraculously gained employment following 100 novenas , letters to the Pope and trips to Lourdes by various relatives. God decided to give the social welfare a break from dealing with me and thus I am up at the crack of dawn every day off to work.

So I shouldn't complain but as many of my friends point out I am not happy til I am unhappy and I have considered contacting the people in question to ask if it was something I said , did or if it was just too expensive to buy a stamp 3 months ago or pick up a phone as a basic act of courtesy. So I may well wait for 3 months , no make it four to respond to their PFO with a PFOU2.

I had planned on bringing the letter to show my friends as they were familiar with my plight and were as anxious that I receive a bone fide PFO from the hilly outcrop as I was. But my wife tore it up and threw it out before I could get to it again. So now my plan has fittingly enough amounted to nothing.

Every time I travel to the airport from now on I will pass the building at least safe in the knowledge even though I managed to get nothing nevertheless the fact that I finally know is something right?. So was Lear wrong after all? Don't ask me I know nothing.

Take care

(insert name here)

I feel numb

2007-05-31T14:08:00.000-07:00

Indeed I do. I have been reading corporate speak for a long time now in various shapes, forms and in a lot of places, particularly on Global company websites. Now it is clear that a certain mode of expression and corporate direction has become evident accross corporate America. Notice I mention corporate quite a number of times. But what is this new language thats crept in to make the fundamentally painful process of firing people sound hip, cool and merciful? "Best Of Breed" Now there's one for you. When someone mentioned it to me first I thought they were saying "Best of Breathe"

You see in Cork we tend to pronounce our "ths" as a "D" so when he mentioned the phrase I thought he was refering to the situation of now having healthy , happy lungs , a consequence of frequenting smoke free bars and restaurants in our fine city thanks to Irelands smoking ban. When he clarified it ws indeed "breed" I wondered if it was related to the plan outlined by Scott on his polar expedition in which he was to slaughter the weaker pack dogs and feed them to the stronger. Not quite right in fact but close. Corporations slaughter the weaker pack dogs and feed them to the stronger (apologies cheaper) employees to achieve their goals.

And all in all thats the way the dog biscuit crumbles. Numbers have to be met synergies have to be realized, the corporate family has to metamorphise into a complex web of interweaving, interwoven energies, beliefs behaviours, codes and behaviours.

And to be fair todays Chief Executives they do have to fill the long, dull, empty hours travelling on the corporate jet or golfing on the worlds finest links. So the head honcho sits next to his minature globe and spins it rapidly saying to himself "Wherever it stops I'll outsource our lollipop stick varnishing operation to" Good chance given their size and shape that the spin cycle will stop at China or India. And to be fair to both countrys its not their fault that everyone and everything wants to do business with them. Huge markets, big workforces, cheap labour. I guess its like Ireland 20 years ago. The American Corporations didn't have the "Best of Breed" blabber, jabber to explain the job losses to their fellow Americans , so they just told them to stick their tail between their legs and go pee on the nearest lampost instead.

So the fine loyal slobbering Irish Wolfhounds that we were, we took to their high tech jobs like dogfish to water, slobbering, covered in drool and wagging our tails. But you know I've looked into this and I noticed that dogs do spend quite a lot of time lying around all day ,doing nothing or sniffing each others butts. Not good for business I'm afraid.

And then we became the fine wealthy economy that we are today. But we made a mistake. We called the phenomenon "The Celtic Tiger". Now I'm no super genious (or are I?) but the cat just doesn't get the cream . Its quite clearly the canine species that the corporations are seeking. Why couldn't we call it "The Celtic Cocker"? Not viscious, powerfull enough? How bout "The Celtic Pit Bull"? Truth be known the strength of our economy is largely based on the building trade, but weve spent too long building dog boxes and over charging for them. The tide is turning and were chasing our tails now.

In reality you can outsource everything even your ethical code. Just diall 1800-Hows-My-Ethics.

But you know when you move everything outside you'll try to sit down in your living room one nite and realize that the spotty teenagers up the road are using your 48 inch TV for target practice or are travelling down the hill at high speed on your handmade leather suite smoking your fine cuban cigars "Best of Breathe" you will realize that some things are too good to show the door.

Yup its all so confusing and upsetting and sits uneasily on my shoulders as I go to bed at nite listening to the huskey next door barking at a poor soul walking by minding his own business. Best Of breed indeed.

elections and suchlike

2007-05-27T11:11:00.000-07:00

So there it is. The posters are still blotting the lanscape and littering out roads and footpaths. No doubt todays high winds in Cork will make life easier for the token cleaning up efforts that lie ahead.

I voted alright but I when I voted for change I didnt mean the kind that weighs your pockets down after a saturday nites drinking. Time to move on and observe the swirling torrent of waste that is this countrys furry, claw clipped pussycat economy as it is flushed down the global economic toilet.

Sure we all have our barbeques, SUVs, second house , foreign holidays, trips to Cheltnam but its all going yogi bear shaped and are we really happy?. The answer is yes for now. But a late night trip with a sick child to our finest medical suites in Wilton will remind us that despite all our wealth and affluence we are a fracture and bandage away from a trolly packed corridor or pitched battles in the casualty ward on Saturday nite with west coast cooler pickled youngsters who have got drunk on a packet of tayto and a wiff of whiskey.

As my private health insurance is soon to disappear thanks to my employment being also flushed down the celtic bowl, I now must consider my options carefully. I will wrap my family and I in rolls of bubblewrap and live in a sterile tent for the rest of my life so as not to have to endure the trials and tribulations of a trip to the Paris Wilton Hotel.

Of course I could pay to continue my subscription but what then about my spanking new shiny 20 litre SUV? How might I pay for it?. If everyone else is killing the planet might as well join them. I want to be sitting so high off the road so as to get a nosebleed or severe altitude sickness. I want to be able to bully my way out of sideroads and terrify arthritis riddled old drivers in nissan micras travelling at subsonic speed and beep the horn so load that people think the spaceshuttle is launching overhead. I want to spend 200 euros a week on petrol and have a vehicle so big and chunky that my wife can reverse into a wall and take the side of another car away without so much as a scratch on our mighty monster machine. And I want to be able to shake my fist, stick up my fingers, and display my gigantic hairy hide out the window at fellow drivers knowing full well all they will see is 4 giant wheels and a set of bullbars towering overhead

I met up with some friends the other nite and promised I's update my blog this weekend for the three people who actually read it. So here it is I apologise for the rant but its Sunday nite and I have to be up in the morning early for work so I'm cranky but hey its the bank holiday approaching and I have been invited to see Michael Flatly get the freedom of our fine city next weekend. I am going to hop , skip jump and yeeha up to him and ask him if theres any chance he might make me the next Lard of the Dance. You see I really do think I'm a good dancer. Its amazing the amount of space that develops around me on the dancefloor when I do go through my routine , They must all be allowing me room to display my undoubted talent. I think this is my big chance. Maybe if I get my wife to drive my SUV up the steps and through the front doors of city hall while I'm running thru a set of jigs on the roof with planxty playing on my 40 disc CD changer. Yes I can grab his attention that way.

In fairness he supposed to be a decent man so I'll leave him alone. I can drink the free alcohol available and wait until the dancefloor opens up for me late on. Then I'll take my chance.

Maybe with my new found fame I can buy 20 more SUVs and become a tax exile in madagascar. I might even run for office next time as your independant "Dancing Politician"
"I'll dance a jig for you in Dail eireann if you vote for my feet"

2007-05-02T08:44:00.000-07:00

Heres your soup. Hows your sandwich?

2007-04-29T12:35:00.000-07:00

Indeed ! I spent the last week in Glenbeigh in Co. Kerry with my wife and 3 and a half year old son. And it was fabulous of course but Lord oh Lord if I see another bowl of soup and a plate of sandwiches I'm going to tear the extra 7lbs of weight I've gained this week out. Hmm interesting and potentially disturbing. If I only knew how..

No in fairness we stayed in a huge fancy house which was two minutes walk from shop, pub , soup bowl and sandwich plate.

Don't get me wrong I tried to fight it. I even elected to go for a run on rossbeigh strand to keep with the programme. And the energy and enthusiasm was there for the first windswept 100 metres. Then heavy soup laden legs cried STOP! No I continued on along the strand and into the sand dunes. The car had faded into the distance. Now as my knees creaked and the sweat poured like bubbling hot oxtail soup from every gland I thought to myself "What am I gonna do?"

What would I have done if I was still working as a software engineer and hit a serious obstacle in my workday? I would have gone to the canteen of course and brought 4 of my colleagues with me. Looked behind me and did a 180 degree sweep. No . No canteen here to go to. George , Eoin , Patrick and Padraig were nowhere to be seen either. Plenty of sand but no wich. Keep going. I had an idea. I promised myself a bowl of creamy mushroom soup and chicken sandwich if I kept going.

The shackles were off the prize too great. Carl Lewis you wouldnt be fit to butter my pannini .
I picked up the pace which was lying somewhere deep in the sand at this point. Staggered back to car. Drove back to the house and with wife and son in tow went to the nearest pub. Guess what I had to eat?

It did affect my reflexes of course and this was evident on Wednesday as I took Michael to the water dome in Tralee. 22 euro in for He and I. The place is great for kids I'm sure. He was full of childlike wonder and joy at all the slides and splashing.

He attempted to tackle a fairly big slide. I allowed him and shouldn't have really but my senses were dulled by vegetable this and creamy mushroom that. Down he came. I tried to catch him but as I laboured like a seal clapping his flippers I missed him at the end of the slide and under the water he went. As he came up choking and panicking i'm sure he gave me an accusing look as he struggled to claw back his breath. "I think I'll go on de small slide dad" he said. And he did. Meanwhile the wave machine had started . I lay in the shallow end like a beached orca as water crashed over me. I swallowed water and chlorine and held Michael above wave level as I bore the brunt of the manmade onslaught. he laughed as I choked happily in the surf.

Problem is Michael now wants to go swimming again. I have to get back in shape. I will I promise but right after this club sandwich!!

fat lip

2007-04-09T04:55:00.000-07:00

What a week . On a sports front all the teams in varying sports accross the board lost. In particular UTD lost on Saturday sending me into a rage spiral and a journey into the feel bad rainbow. Indoor footie on Friday nite was interesting in the sense that I nearly got knocked unconscious by a ball travelling at high speed and close range into my face which almost took my eye out and has left me with a reminder of the wonderful week I've had. A fat lip and a half closed eye.

Went out saturday nite and again last nite. It inevitably lead to a kebab and a carton of chips.
Trying to get a messy kebab into a swollen mouth is an interesting challenge but one that becomes more interesting when alcohol is involved. I always find it amuzing and sometimes a little disturbing watching people queuing in a fast food joint after a feed of drink.

take last nite for example. Some guy fell in the door bleary eyed and pasty faced looking for a chik chik.. a chikan keb keb kebub. He then revealed his ace in the deck announcing he didn't have nuff munny as he spilled coins all over the counter and floor. The indian gentleman at the counter had the look of a guy who has seen it all before. he just sighed and said it doesnt matter give me what you have. I was incensed and was about to protest through my fat swollen trout lips but decided against it seeing as I already had a sore lip and a bruised eye and didn't want to encourage a repeat of same.

Pasty face then proceeded to tell the indian guy and everyone in the chipper how much of a true gen ggg gen gentlemum he was. I know what to do next time now at least. Pretend to be drunk, order and then say I don't have enough cash. Guaranteed I'll end up being ejected in a hail of coins knowing my luck.

Then you have the giggling girls sitting on the window cill drunk on a half bottle of smirnoff ice waiting for their boyfriends (drunk on the other half) to get them chips and curry sauce.

Then with a protective arm they are led back out onto the street to hail a cab. Their mission is to get home in the cab without vomiting all over the seat or into their handbags.

After they get outta bed 14 hours later , hair sticky with vomit and tongue plastered to roof of mouth, bowels creaking from the curry chips , they ring their friends to say what a great night it was . got hammered , met a guy who bought me chips and curry and puked in a taxi on way home.

I wonder how pasty face got home. I don't think a cab driver would have been as understanding of his pecuniary crisisas the chippie was. I got home anyway as I had managed to scrounge enough of the coins pastyhad dropped on the floor in the chipper which actually covered my whole nite out. Two glasses of razza and water 25 cents. kebab 4 euro, the bottle of cheap boru vodka concealed in my sleeve all nite ... priceless

sling your hook

2007-03-27T14:07:00.000-07:00

I promised myself and my loyal readers (which is again just myself) that I wouldn't mention this anymore but I reluctantly come back to the issue as my final day is Friday. I have (in my own words) been told to sling my hook. Problem is I have many ,many hooks in my two desks at work that need slinging and right now I dont have the hydraulic equipment or slight of hand to fulfill this arduous task. Merriam webster defines a hook as " a curved or bent device for catching, holding, or pulling" Sling is defined as to hurl or throw. I managed many years ago to catch my interviewers off guard and convince them to employ me , managed to pull a fast one to get the job and held onto it for 9 years against all odds. So that covers the hook. As for the sling ... well if I could hurl/throw all the waste paper and useless bits and bobs I gathered in my desks over the years I would be a happy man. No I have to go tidy tomorrow and i'm not looking forward to it.

Dirty Bird

2007-03-15T15:16:00.000-07:00

I had an item in mind for this week but on discussions with a friend "Letters from the idiot" yesterday in the Bishopstown bar I have directed my energies to this tale of late night antics as a student. I know what your thinking when u read the title. Trip to nightclub followed by a sordid encounter with the fairer sex but it is of course not the case. This is indeed a darker murkier tale of living life on the edge of mount ecoli. It was a booze filled saturday nite. I had had a successful day at the part time job. I had secured 5 punts in tips and had 20 punts in my pocket. It was going to be a great nite out. The McGiver was used to pay the entrance fee to the night club. The rest was spent on getting inebriated on two bottles of fosters ice and a cheap pint of Beamish. Indeed I was involved heavily in the quarter to one taste test for the Beamish all right. Now sufficiently drunk and semi broke I turned my sizable head and beer belly towards the exit and the delights of late nite eating that awaited me and my iron coated stomach. it was some southern fried chicken type establishment down the road that I had booked my tickets and packed my bag for. Bright lights, long queue, drunken revellers. It was too much for me but the reebok add of years ago doesn't lie. The belly is indeed going to get ya. two snack boxes and coke for the price of one. Now how could I let me and my my best friend (The belly) down by not opting for this delightful package. I got the food... No seats...Its raining outside...Think fool Think. I moved ouside under the cover of the window awning. The chicken/sawdust/ash ..whatever it was was going down suitably well. Check I'm allowing time to breathe etc... keep going. Then disaster struck the chicken took flight. I watched in slow horrer filled fascination as it landed on a wet rain soaked,muddy pavement. The passing revellers laughed at me but to my relief noone attempted to salvage it. so there wasn't going to be a fight over a bird at least. The five second rule kicked in. Grabbed the piece and washed clean with jumper in five seconds. Now the dilemma. Eat and possibly die or go home hungry. I consulted my two fosters ice and the pint of beamish. All indicators were pointing to the chicken. I woolfed it down skin bone everything. passed the first test...wasn't going blind. I had done it. I swayed and staggered triumphantly accross the street homeward bound my friends berating me for my act of folly but laughing their heads off nonetheless. Next day i woke . I felt unusual, what had I done? It all came back. I had done the right thing I was still alive and of course by that evening that particular bird had well and truly flown the coop.... Take care

Chopsticks

2007-03-11T15:41:00.000-07:00

It finally happened... I new it was going to but when it does u still get a shock. I lost my job. I was handed notice friday. Theres the door take yourself and your beer belly out through it.

Its time to move on from here. Time to talk about something else. Was drinking Friday and Saturday night this weekend. I'm too old for that kinda activity these days and I will thus pay the price . Busy week ahead. Going to old trafford next friday for the Bolton game. Looking forward to it now.

a jobs just a phone call away

2007-03-01T11:33:00.000-08:00

You know it may well be just like that. A friend of mine tuff gnarl blog is attending a phone interview tomorrow. Now when I say attending I mean being in the vicinity of a mobile phone at a certain time to take a call from a faceless engineer or HR person or both. His life might not depend on that call but his job might. So imagine if you will the perfect interview. bare in mind that this of course does not necessarily apply to my faceless friend . So the phone rings and u take the call. Now there are a number of individuals on the line. theres the well dressed humourless HR person. How do i know this? Is it not the norm? Just kidding to any HR people out there. Then theres good developer , bad developer. One is nice and friendly and the other is nit picking little details of your cv and expecting you to solve world peace using vectors or matrices. Now you lie there absent mindedly picking your nose and reminding yourself that u should pretend they are in their underwear. U can do better than that you don't even have your boxer shorts on and your suit lies accross the room in a crumpled ball . Its been there since the last phone interview you attended no doubt. hey so far this is great. Now you may have your girlfriend, wife or even boyfriend next to you. It doesn't matter. hey you may even have your recently purchased St Bernard hound slobbering all over your blankets if your into that kinda thing. trick is as long as they don't know you don't care and neither will they. if you are asked a difficult question you can refer to your partner or pet to "Fetch the answer" There are no tell tale or awkward responses to difficult questions and if you feel an urgent need to break wind then u can use your duvet, pet or partner to good effect or hit the mute button on your mobile.

So there u are bowl of cornflakes on the locker, toasty warm in your snuffleuffagus slippers and you re giving it loads. bad developer asks a question. You make a facial gesture that would make even your mother not love you anymore or give the silent finger or two. Bottom line is at the end of it all you could quite conceivably get the job. Isn't modern technology super. I better stop now as I am getting carried away. Good luck mobitron with the interview and remember have the suit ready to go..

what a balls

2007-02-28T14:05:00.000-08:00

U know I love football. Have always loved playing and watching it since I was a kid.
What strikes me though is occasionally I get to a point when i just cannot watch anymore of it. And I've reached that point now. I'm full up. It seems that u build urself up for all thse big games and they always tend to disappoint you , never living up to the hype. I didn't bother watching tonites offering of Blackburn V arsenal in FA cup. Blackburn won thankfully but I was busy watching US marshals for the 6th time. Its rubbish no matter how many times u look at it.
Attended a jobs fair today . Lots of free sweets, glossy brochures and people everywhere. Reminds me of when I was a student. The only reason I attended back then was for the free food and booze. To-day I couldn't eat the free food as i'm off chocolate and there wasn't a drop of booze to be had anywhere. If only I'd remembered my hipflask. They surely would have hired the sophisticated guy with the shiny drinks dispenser sticking out of his pocket. The fact that he was walking funny and shlurring his speech is only an indication of his ability to adapt to his surroundings. On a serious note the job hunting is beginning to get to me. too many people, not enough jobs. It looks like it might all come down to putting the 1o grand on "U gotta be kidding me" in the 3:45 at newmarket. Or how bout buying 10 thousand lottery tickets for Friday nites draw and discovering a syndicate of lollipop ladies won the 5million jackpot. The thought of interviewing again does not sit well with me or my rusty hip flask (this happens when you use it to store water while maintaining shock value amongst ones peers)

Ok must sign off and check my emails. what juicy piece of spam awaits me now? hey I just won a million yo-yos and all i gotsta do is call this low-toll high cost number. calls cost 40000 Euro a minute. average call duration is 30 minutes. Do I dare pick up the telephone?????

one flu over

2007-02-25T13:36:00.000-08:00

What a week. Come home Monday aches and pains all over. Running hot and cold. Went to bed at 830 . Only thing was I was wide awake at 5am next day . So went to work still tired. felt better fluwise but it came back to bite me in the ass Friday nite. How dare this inconsiderate virus strike me down on my time off. watched the match between Arsenal and Chelsea today. as a die hard Utd fan I wanted both teams to lose. Interesting game one player knocked out and three sent off. Like a typical Saturday nite on patricks street. U know having the flu is a lot like watching your favourite team play. Hot and cold chills, dizziness, nausea and headache and thats b4 the game starts even. Another week down lay off getting closer. its a good time of year for it. weathers getting better, plenty of sports on the telly and theres daytime tv of course. Must try set up a company that gets a state software contract. the beauty of it is you get a pile of money for 5 years to produce something thats never implemented and even if it was the people who are supposed to use the new system go on strike coz they wont change their work practices.

Should have thought of this sooner. Ok signing off now. hi to Will check out his excellent blog at letters from the idiot

Take care
Alan

New beginnings

2007-02-16T13:59:00.000-08:00

New beginnings indeed . having redundancy staring me and 350 others in the face.
Ah well such is life. A big sack of riches awaits.... I must say I could write a book about the whole redundancy process. Its hysterical really. from what I can tell most people are delighted to be losing there jobs. You know the way it works . The first time u hear there might be job cuts u think oh my God I hope I'm not in trouble. The next time around your less aprehensive but the third strike well.. maybe I've gone thru the seven stages of being made redundant. Right now I feel sleepy :) Looking forward to collecting my social welfare check on a Thursday, heading to the bookies and then getting the bus home stopping at the offf licence on the way for a few cans of dutch gold :) . Now if I could use the time I will have on my hands to train for the marathon in June. I'll sit down and consider it while I'm consuming my cans of dutch gold lying on the couch watching Dr Phil.