Twitter is an odd social convention, one which over the past nine months or so I have become utterly addicted to. Before I joined I was bemused at the twitter addiction (twiddiction? .......no.) my friends suffered from, they literally live blogged their every thought, movement, any incident that occurred was recorded and immortalised on this cyber journal. When I eventually made my own account, I tweeted sparsely, attempting to keep my tweets either witty or profound. That method soon fell by the wayside and now I tweet daily about anything and everything, from the mundane to the incredibly awkward, and frequent, events that form my existence.
I am rapidly approaching my 1000th tweet, an event that sadly means a lot more to me than it should. As such, I put forward this analysis of my best and worst, essentially a collection of 140 character thoughts that sums up the last few months of my life, its sure to be pretty dull at worst and hugely mortifying at best. Also I had to scroll really far so I feel like I have accomplished something today.
The pressure for this first tweet is painful.... Oh, that wasn't so bad!
A brave stab at a cliched joke upon entry into a new arena of my life.. Yep, sounds about right.
Andrew McCarthy circa 1985.. Thanks for the ridic high standards!
Pretty in Pink, St. Elmos Fire, Andrew McCarthy is the condescending 80s douchebag that should be populating my life, making me feel better about being weird and, probably, insinuating that I could be pretty if I changed almost everything about myself. Alas, I am on my own, but a girl can dream.
"There, Philip, below mine... YOUR NICE WRITING PHILIP!" "Oh yes, yes there you go. This countrys nice, innit? Do we still own this?"
One of the biggest events in my life over the past year is the impact of the Royal Wedding and subsequent obsession with the Royal Family, particularly Philip, which ensued. Watching the coverage of his trip to Ireland (and the Queen's too, I suppose) took up a lot of my time, imagination when it came to improvising what they were saying, and tweet space.
So the world's supposed to end THE DAY AFTER TOMORROW! ahahahah.....haha...ha...sorry.
Remember when everyone briefly believed the 21st of May was the end of the world? This was composed on the 19th... No further explanation needed.
"You have very big hands, God Bless you." - My Grandfather.
My Grandfather is easily one of my favourite people on the planet. He lives in the nursing home where I work so I get to spend a great deal of time with time, time he usually spends musing on my inappropriate hand/stomach size, worrying about when I'm going to get married (sooner rather than later seems to be the general concensus) and whether or not he looks handsome enough on any given day to "get some mots".
I've built a fort inside the hood of my hoodie using my imagination.
I have no explanation for this other than; exam time.
I rarely consider myself sexier than when plunging out the shower. Especially when Kanye comes on. Get down girl, gon' head, get down.
We've all been there, sexy dancing to the iPod, then glancing in the mirror and realising we look like a human equivalent of a sewer rat.
My Dad tried to hide the M&Ms from me. Degrading. Its like tying up an obese kid on a diet at night so he doesn't eat his fingers.
I don't think I've gotten over this, although when I found the sharer bag of M&Ms I DID eat them all, then immediately felt sick. So maybe he was in the right.
Waiting until its bright to sleep... New life low.
I suck at horror movies.
Good thing my bro in law is understanding of the female need to cook whilst simultaneously getting drunk.
During an ill-fated Come Dine With Me in my sisters home, when I started drinking before I started cooking to steady my nerves and help me forget that I can't cook.
Better invest in a coat.
True.
You don't even know Twitter. You don't even know how excited I am for The Muppets.
This was written in November. I have since seen The Muppets. And Holy Mother of Moses but it was fantastic. I want Jason Segel to marry me in a quaint, but not forced looking, Hawaiian ceremony.
=O
Not at my most articulate, but you get the idea.
Well that was sexually uncomfortable.
This was written about the Late Late Toy Show, I have no idea what it was in reference to, but I do remember Tubridy dressed up as Woody so its probably something to do with that.
She's literally YouTubing cats... What, I don't even...
My friend Aoife is the most ridiculously adorable person I know, she speaks fluent LOLcat and is the biggest Twitter influence in my life with over 400 followers and 52,000 tweets.
God I wish I had tumblr, for further means of procrastination.
I love you Blogger.
I don't like Oprah. There I said it.
SHE'S JUST TOO BIG FOR HER GOD DAMN BOOTS.
I'm in my twenties.
Oh, what a horrid, horrid realisation. I'm a bit in love with my birthday, but the aging fear that gripped me on turning twenty made me cling to immaturity more than usual. As a result on my twentieth birthday I was insufferable. Whenever I didn't get my way I would scream "I CALL BIRTHDAY!" until someone relented into giving me what I wanted. The shame.
Who won the superplate?
I stand by this hilarious wordplay. Plate and bowl, get it? GET IT?
No one will want to talk to me if I keep referring to feminist lit as my "Vagina Class".
I mean, where is the chase and how do I cut to it.
I can get up anytime I want...
This was only a few days ago! I'm still in bed.
Had to sleep in my parents bed after spilling a pint of water in mine when I turned in my sleep. Makes me wonder... Where are they??
This did happen, I am very awkward, and my parents are quite mysterious. I once rang my Dad to see if he'd pick me up from school and he couldn't because he was in Amsterdam.
An entire year of my life compressed into one blogpost via twitter: I don't want to live on this planet anymore.
Niamh (discovered the internet yesterday.)
Wednesday 22 February 2012
Friday 17 February 2012
Yours Hornily, David xXx
So the title is somewhat misleading.This is not a blog about my insatiable labido [sad face], but instead a blog in praise of "frape". This is something we have all fallen victim to and hopefully inflicted upon someone else at least once. For legal reasons I am obliged to point out that I am of course referring to the act of hijacking someone else's facebook profile for nefarious means. Good. All clear? No one thinks I'm condoning rape in anyway? Excellent!
I recently fell victim to a vicious fraping at the hands of my classmate and friend, I use this term loosely, Paul. I have to say I found it very difficult to feel irate about it in anyway shape or form. In what can only be described as a flash of brilliance, he decided he would message Snooki and the Situation (of Jersey Shore acclaim). While I have since removed the message for fear of strangers following it up it went something like this:
"OMG just snapped some pics of Snooki/Situation at my local beach. Get them before the tabloids see them! Message me!!"
How on Earth he decided on this course of action is beyond me. I laughed about it later at home. Genius.
However, Paul was not so merciful in other aspects of the frape. Remember the title of this post? Paul sent some mail. It went like this, "You always smell delightful. Yours hornily, David xXx". Needless to say I got a less than favourable reply and was sufficiently mortified.
So lets not write off the fraping phenomenon as a digital method of calling your friends gay. There is much to be learned from frapes. The best take a flash of inspiration and effort. The best require a high level of execution and follow through.
My own brother was fraped not long ago. He loaned his ipod to a friend not realising he was signed in the entire time. But I couldn't tell for the first few posts. My own brother. We are a seperated by only a year and see each other every day. But when I saw:
"I don't know how planes fly :("
"Sometimes I cry when I see nature"
and finally "Haters gonna hate, I just keep my swag on! xxx"
I genuinely thought 'Karls having a weird day'....
I am yet to create a frape of such brilliance but all I need is time, time and opportunity.
David
Official Spice Girl Fan Site Treasurer 08/09
I'm not always wrong, but when I am I hope there's always soup involved.
The Leaving Cert was really hard. I know I may be preaching to the converted here, but during my lifetime of absolute first world problems, the Leaving Cert was one of the most distressing and scarring experiences I have ever endured and I hope to God it stays that way. That being said, I feel like I really earned college, that my presence there was won over the space of two years of nervous breakdowns, cramming completely irrelevant information and, in one mortifying incident, crying in class. (It was Irish, I'd just found out I'd failed my mock, I was a ball of hormone and weepy female emotion) (....Still doesn't make up for it, Christ that memory makes my heart shrivel in shame) So yeah, my college attendance is more than justified. And I reserve the right to participate in college life whatever way I see fit. If that means sparse lecture attendance, slightly delirious tutorial attendance and the occasional chats in the back of a lecture hall, then so be it.
Mature Students. As much as I try to avoid generalised hatred, when it comes to mature students it is a struggle. The affronted look I receive from a mature student on any given day, as I go about my business, carrying out my work with the exact same level of competence as them, with a lightheartedness I like to call a "good attitude", enrages me. Because they refuse to respect my right to be there, like I do for them.
Today a good forty minutes of a tutorial was wasted on the following exchange, repeated again and again between an aggressive, obnoxious mature student and a shy, helpful tutor:
Asshole: Regarding fieldwork, when it comes to picking a site, we can pick any group of society to study?
Shy, Helpful Tutor: Yep, any site will do, as long as the people remain the same for each session of study and subjects are interacting with each other.
Asshole: What about an emergency room?
Shy, Helpful Tutor: Yes that works because the staff and setting remain the same.
Asshole: What about, like, Mass?
Shy, Helpful Tutor: Mass actually won't work, because there's no interaction between a group, just responding. But anywhere else is perfectly fine.
Asshole: I don't understand, you said anywhere.
Shy, Helpful Tutor: Any other site is fine, just not mass, you'll find you have very little to study.
Asshole (becoming obviously frustrated and confused): So will an AA meeting work?
Shy, Helpful Tutor: Yes it will. Any site will work if you have a group interacting.
Asshole: But not mass?
My Brain: YOU CAN'T STUDY MASS, WHAT IS SO HARD TO UNDERSTAND, ABSOLUTELY ANYTHING IN THE WORLD BUT MASS, PRAYER GROUP YES, BIBLE STUDY FINE, NOT MASS, STOP SAYING MASS, WHY DO YOU EVEN WANT TO STUDY MASS!?
Rinse, lather, repeat. For forty god damn minutes.
Because of their time off, during which they've worked jobs they hated, reared children who were clearly a disappointment and held relationships that obviously weren't fulfilling, mature students think their life experience have empowered them with an all encompassing knowledge. And while I don't doubt that they have a maturity I have yet to grasp, it doesn't make them more superior when it comes to the study of 19th Century poetry. That shit's pretty theoretical, guys. I have as much ability to understand, study and discuss it as anyone. I can also do it without being a raging, pretentious, undermining asshole. So when I work up the courage to volunteer a point in those nervous sweat boxes known as tutorials, you shooting me down with an incorrect interpretation and a withering glare just makes me hate you even more.
However, I am generally a positive and upbeat person (that last statement is technically not true in any way, shape or form) and I try to see the good in most things. So when a member of a social group I despise does something awesomely charming, which considerably brightens my day, I want to give them props for it. In the same tutorial in which the engaging Mass Debate took place, in the corner sat a different mature student. On her arrival to class I had subconsciously labeled her in my internal mental folder as "quirky" (she was wearing a delightful pink frilled dress, over white jeans and had an air of disarray). I would have happily ignored her for the hour. When she had settled herself in her corner, from her bag she removed a jam jar. Within the jam jar there was a grey, milky liquid, resembling homemade mushroom soup. She placed the jar on the desk, and left it there, untouched. For the entire class. when we were gratefully dismissed, she put it back in her bag and went about her merry way. Good luck soup? Homegrown alien? Who knows. All I know is that it was freakin' fantastic. Bravo, quirky mature student. You have done so much for you race just by being you.
Niamh (Can't count in prime numbers)
Mature Students. As much as I try to avoid generalised hatred, when it comes to mature students it is a struggle. The affronted look I receive from a mature student on any given day, as I go about my business, carrying out my work with the exact same level of competence as them, with a lightheartedness I like to call a "good attitude", enrages me. Because they refuse to respect my right to be there, like I do for them.
Today a good forty minutes of a tutorial was wasted on the following exchange, repeated again and again between an aggressive, obnoxious mature student and a shy, helpful tutor:
Asshole: Regarding fieldwork, when it comes to picking a site, we can pick any group of society to study?
Shy, Helpful Tutor: Yep, any site will do, as long as the people remain the same for each session of study and subjects are interacting with each other.
Asshole: What about an emergency room?
Shy, Helpful Tutor: Yes that works because the staff and setting remain the same.
Asshole: What about, like, Mass?
Shy, Helpful Tutor: Mass actually won't work, because there's no interaction between a group, just responding. But anywhere else is perfectly fine.
Asshole: I don't understand, you said anywhere.
Shy, Helpful Tutor: Any other site is fine, just not mass, you'll find you have very little to study.
Asshole (becoming obviously frustrated and confused): So will an AA meeting work?
Shy, Helpful Tutor: Yes it will. Any site will work if you have a group interacting.
Asshole: But not mass?
My Brain: YOU CAN'T STUDY MASS, WHAT IS SO HARD TO UNDERSTAND, ABSOLUTELY ANYTHING IN THE WORLD BUT MASS, PRAYER GROUP YES, BIBLE STUDY FINE, NOT MASS, STOP SAYING MASS, WHY DO YOU EVEN WANT TO STUDY MASS!?
Rinse, lather, repeat. For forty god damn minutes.
Because of their time off, during which they've worked jobs they hated, reared children who were clearly a disappointment and held relationships that obviously weren't fulfilling, mature students think their life experience have empowered them with an all encompassing knowledge. And while I don't doubt that they have a maturity I have yet to grasp, it doesn't make them more superior when it comes to the study of 19th Century poetry. That shit's pretty theoretical, guys. I have as much ability to understand, study and discuss it as anyone. I can also do it without being a raging, pretentious, undermining asshole. So when I work up the courage to volunteer a point in those nervous sweat boxes known as tutorials, you shooting me down with an incorrect interpretation and a withering glare just makes me hate you even more.
However, I am generally a positive and upbeat person (that last statement is technically not true in any way, shape or form) and I try to see the good in most things. So when a member of a social group I despise does something awesomely charming, which considerably brightens my day, I want to give them props for it. In the same tutorial in which the engaging Mass Debate took place, in the corner sat a different mature student. On her arrival to class I had subconsciously labeled her in my internal mental folder as "quirky" (she was wearing a delightful pink frilled dress, over white jeans and had an air of disarray). I would have happily ignored her for the hour. When she had settled herself in her corner, from her bag she removed a jam jar. Within the jam jar there was a grey, milky liquid, resembling homemade mushroom soup. She placed the jar on the desk, and left it there, untouched. For the entire class. when we were gratefully dismissed, she put it back in her bag and went about her merry way. Good luck soup? Homegrown alien? Who knows. All I know is that it was freakin' fantastic. Bravo, quirky mature student. You have done so much for you race just by being you.
Niamh (Can't count in prime numbers)
Tuesday 14 February 2012
Welcome! Can I get you anything? Tea? Diazepam?
It won't be long before this blog turns into a petty rivalry between two old friends and their intellectual prowess. However seeing as one member is a witty, big boned girl with a sharp tongue and a basic grasp of large syllable words, such as "curmudgeon", and the other is me, already there is no competition.
Five Things You Need To Know About Me
Five Things You Need To Know About Dave
Dave and I appreciate that choosing blogs these days is like trying to pick the best poppies in a field of... Well, a field of poppies. So taking the time out of your enriching StumbleUpon lifestyle to read a little about us and who we are, and why we desperately need to prove to the world that WE CAN'T BE THE ONLY ONES WHO FIND US FUNNY truly means a lot to us. Dave will someday be the proud owner of an aging cat named Darwin, a Nobel Prize for his work on hands and,with any luck, a good trophy wife, and I will still be refreshing my Twitter waiting for glorious, life fulfilling retweets. Your company on this path to success couldn't make us happier.
Niamh (owner of twelve cross-continental Dunkin' Donuts)
Five Things You Need To Know About Me
- So you're going to be a Garda?: I have been six foot two since I was fourteen, and it wasn't long before such a conspicuous birth defect led to a reflexive sarcastic gene.
- Writes Comedy Blog With Science Student; Science Student Is Funnier: My life, and the day-to-day events which make up that life, has been described as "like the socially awkward penguin meme, but like more awkward?" Needless to say this fact has haunted and enhanced my life ever since, so much so that I literally cannot park my car without at least three embarrassing incidents ensuing.
- I'm just like...... : Despite studying such passionate and endearing subjects as Anthropology and English Literature, I am apathetic beyond belief. If I cared less, I would probably be flat lining. Three months after graduating I foresee myself living a routine based on cheese toasties, slipper socks and a very strict 30 Rock/Arrested Development regiment.
- Fact: I am Blue Ivy Carter
- I have the boxset, I'll get round to it: I like to make outrageous claims, which at first glance cannot possibly be true, without providing any evidence to back up my wild fantasies, nor disprove them. So who can prove anyone's anything really? Yeah. (I've also never seen The Godfather)
Five Things You Need To Know About Dave
- Still celebrates Martin Luther King Day: He is often accidentally and casually racist, which makes his Aryan good looks both frightening and incredibly appropriate.
- The one singing harmonies: He is the sixth member of chart topping boy band 5ive.
- This doesn't make it into the final cut of the movie: Is an adequate sportsman, been known to willingly break bones to give his brother a shot in the limelight, only to be proved inferior to said brother and find himself replaced. Turns to science in the hope of mending crushed dreams.
- Will probably let the funky music do the talking: Dave will soon be moving to Switzerland, where his poor grasp of the delicate French language, terrible pronunciation, and general social ineptitude will surely lead to hilarious blog posts. (So please hang in there!)
- Glitteratti: Despite some upcoming rants, Dave is completely comfortable with his own sexuality and totally accepting of the sexuality of others. Been known to lust after the alluring, sexual magnetism of Tom Hardy and the modest talents of Laura Linney.
Dave and I appreciate that choosing blogs these days is like trying to pick the best poppies in a field of... Well, a field of poppies. So taking the time out of your enriching StumbleUpon lifestyle to read a little about us and who we are, and why we desperately need to prove to the world that WE CAN'T BE THE ONLY ONES WHO FIND US FUNNY truly means a lot to us. Dave will someday be the proud owner of an aging cat named Darwin, a Nobel Prize for his work on hands and,with any luck, a good trophy wife, and I will still be refreshing my Twitter waiting for glorious, life fulfilling retweets. Your company on this path to success couldn't make us happier.
Niamh (owner of twelve cross-continental Dunkin' Donuts)
Caution: The Fun May Begin Here
First welcome to "What I Can't Even" and congratulations on choosing a blog with such low potential. I'm Dave and have the ambiguous privilege of presenting you our first ever blog! This is just a quick round up of the Five Most Important Things To Know About Me!
1) I am male: Despite many a taunt from my schoolyard days I am in fact a boy. Every now again I do man thing, play sports, barbeque meat products or partly assemble furniture only to declare there has to be pieces missing and abandon the project entirely. However, I have been known to balance such stereotypical male features with a love of gossip and Downton Abbey.
2) Science!!: I am a massive nerd. And not a nerd as in "OMG I totally love the Big Bang Theory!" nerd, a real nerd. A nerd who takes pride the fact that I have a favourite element (Bismuth!), I have a cat called Darwin and my favourite gene is Sonic Hedgehog.....
3). Laziness: I actually envied that guy in Seven who got to be sloth. Stay in bed for a year?? Don't even move to (ahem) relieve yourself?? Yea, that guy had it made. Except for the dying part, obvi.......
4) Her?: Television is a huge part of my life. I consider Tim Riggins a close personal friend and have emailed the Bluth Company my CV. Last summer I visited 30 Rock and was genuinely upset Kenneth didn't give me a tour. Also I realise none of these people are real but if we all just believe....
5) I wasn't even looking for droids!: Despite being an empassioned science geek and math enthusiast, I have never seen Star Wars. This often provokes the reaction of "How have you never seen Star Wars?!?". The obvious answer of "I never sat down in front of a television and cast my gaze thusly" apparently doesn't suffice. I have also never seen Lord of the Rings. Deal with it planet Earth!
Now The Five Most Important Things To Know about Niamh!
1) She does not eat: Never have I frequented the King household to find anything other than waffles and Rich Tea biscuits.
2) Secret Hipster: Niamh longs to wear thick rimmed glasses and a hat that makes her look aloof and creative. However, she resists these urges and instead listens to the music, reads the books and studies arts while wearing comfortable jeans and a Jansport bag.
3) Inferiority Complex: Niamh overtime has developed a well deserved inferiority complex. With her sisters continued success as wife, nurse and all round great person, Niamh struggles with her self esteem and often relies on her sardonic wit to mask her pain.
4) Tina Fey: Niamh is obsessed with Tina Fey. She once followed a look-a-like to their car and stole a lock of hair.
5) Book Enthusiast: Niamh takes great pride in her substantial book collection and often uses it to belittle my poorly read self. With novels by Dickens, Kerouac, Steinbeck and emmmm Meyers, Niamh is bonafide book worm!
Dave
Former Extra On Echo Island
1) I am male: Despite many a taunt from my schoolyard days I am in fact a boy. Every now again I do man thing, play sports, barbeque meat products or partly assemble furniture only to declare there has to be pieces missing and abandon the project entirely. However, I have been known to balance such stereotypical male features with a love of gossip and Downton Abbey.
2) Science!!: I am a massive nerd. And not a nerd as in "OMG I totally love the Big Bang Theory!" nerd, a real nerd. A nerd who takes pride the fact that I have a favourite element (Bismuth!), I have a cat called Darwin and my favourite gene is Sonic Hedgehog.....
3). Laziness: I actually envied that guy in Seven who got to be sloth. Stay in bed for a year?? Don't even move to (ahem) relieve yourself?? Yea, that guy had it made. Except for the dying part, obvi.......
4) Her?: Television is a huge part of my life. I consider Tim Riggins a close personal friend and have emailed the Bluth Company my CV. Last summer I visited 30 Rock and was genuinely upset Kenneth didn't give me a tour. Also I realise none of these people are real but if we all just believe....
5) I wasn't even looking for droids!: Despite being an empassioned science geek and math enthusiast, I have never seen Star Wars. This often provokes the reaction of "How have you never seen Star Wars?!?". The obvious answer of "I never sat down in front of a television and cast my gaze thusly" apparently doesn't suffice. I have also never seen Lord of the Rings. Deal with it planet Earth!
Now The Five Most Important Things To Know about Niamh!
1) She does not eat: Never have I frequented the King household to find anything other than waffles and Rich Tea biscuits.
2) Secret Hipster: Niamh longs to wear thick rimmed glasses and a hat that makes her look aloof and creative. However, she resists these urges and instead listens to the music, reads the books and studies arts while wearing comfortable jeans and a Jansport bag.
3) Inferiority Complex: Niamh overtime has developed a well deserved inferiority complex. With her sisters continued success as wife, nurse and all round great person, Niamh struggles with her self esteem and often relies on her sardonic wit to mask her pain.
4) Tina Fey: Niamh is obsessed with Tina Fey. She once followed a look-a-like to their car and stole a lock of hair.
5) Book Enthusiast: Niamh takes great pride in her substantial book collection and often uses it to belittle my poorly read self. With novels by Dickens, Kerouac, Steinbeck and emmmm Meyers, Niamh is bonafide book worm!
Dave
Former Extra On Echo Island
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