Saturday, December 26, 2009
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Myself and The Hubs headed into town early so we could park the car & have a little wander before the midday launch and book signing (for which he was planning to skedaddle into Tower Records for some man time). Ooh, I do love the 3rd floor in BT's - homewares are loved almost as much as beauty products Chez Baba and a good candle-sniffing session was on the cards. Most of 'em were just rank. The funniest one was called "Log Fire" which spelled exactly like one of the cottages in Bunratty Folk Park - brought me right back to my Colaiste Bhride Rannafeirste gaeltacht experience. Eventually we made our way down via the posho ladies clothes - a sequinned geansai by Chloe for €350 - Hubs told me to buy two!!!
We got down to the ground floor and there was already a whole heap of people in a queue-like manner near the display, so I dispatched Hubs off to squander his cash on mental, sorry metal, music and I went down to where the action was. Most of the ladies queueing were relatively normal apart from two junion Foxrock Fannies behind me who, at the tender age of 15, were yah-ing about how OMG I just like totally need this Mulberry purse in purple. Drove me bonkers and I was itching to wire her braces to the nearest security tag just for the sheer fun of it. Finally, after trying and failing to ignore the pistachio macaroons from Laduree, Amy Huberman hopped up to enthuse about the book (god she's tiny and pretty... and I'm still not hatin' on her) and finally I got to buy the buke and rootle in the stuffed goody bag. Oh I only had a little glance inside as I love to wallow in the stash in the privacy of my own bedroom, showing The Hubs yet more goodies for me to play with. Aisling looked gorgeous - beootiful frock, flawless makeup and very very lovely in person.
I got to meet some of the other lovely beaut.ie bloggers - they are all gorgeous with perfect makeup and accessories - before I had to head off to see one of my nieces do a star turn as a mascot at the Bray Wanderers -v- Liverpool Legends match at the Carlisle Ground.
Now for a spot of ironing, otherwise I'll be going to work in my jammies tomorrow and I'm too posh to work that particular look!!!
Sunday, July 12, 2009
My oh my, that super-inflated ego on a midlife crisis bike Mr. David Marshall (hairdresser to the stars, dontcha know) is a right piece of work. He drank, got on his penis-replacement Harley and made the conscious and utterly moronic decision to drive home from the golf club and whinged bitterly about losing his licence and receiving a hefty fine.
To demonstrate the sheer arrogance of the man, read on...
"I was shocked that I was over the limit," he says now. "I said to the guard there was no way I could be over the limit."
But the hairdresser, who has cut the likes of Bono's hair in the past, was convicted and banned for four years under the drink-driving laws.
"I had a few pints of Guinness after I played a round of golf at the Royal Dublin," he says.
"I played a few games of snooker and I won at the snooker, and I normally wouldn't go to the bar," he says. "It was Christmas time, festive season, and I had two pints of Guinness and a glass of Guinness. What's the big deal?
"There's no justice in this land," he added. "No justice at all in Ireland. Where's the justice?
Justice eh. Not only did he lose his licence this week, but the overbearing prat already had a drink-driving conviction from the early 90's. How many convictions does this man, who clearly knows better than the rest of us, require before he realises that you just cannot drink and drive. I've no doubt that he had enough money to pay for a taxi, or even, heaven forbid, get public transport home.
He's a moron who got caught royally and has the cheek to bleat pitifully to a journalist about how everybody else was wrong, and sure there was no harm intended.
I wonder what he would be saying had he run over somebody and killed them as a result of his total disregard for the laws. Sure it would probably be all their fault for being on the road and not getting out of his drunken, weaving, incapable way.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
I was on my sidekick, the trusty crutch, and accompanied by my two best girlie friends Marge & Monkers (don't worry, they know exactly who they are!) and we set off for Croke Park to lust at the altar of all things Boyband. The omens were good - we had a very very very cute taxi driver who was from Lyon - salut bebe - who got me as close to the Hogan Stand as possible without actually mowing down 110 Gardai who were all standing around looking useless & not directing traffic or anything remotely useful... I managed to eventually find the "medical lift" - best kept secret in Dublin but full of people who were perfectly able to manage the stairs unlike me, so I "had a word" and told them to bugger off & walk. The ladies manning the lift were in knots because they aren't allowed to tell them to bog off. I was in pain & dying for a wee, so I didn't really care. And if they started, I'd just crack the ankles off them with my trusty crutch. Eventually I scaled the heights to my seat in the nosebleed/oxygen mask area only to get a call from Monkers telling me to return to the bar as there was booze waiting for me. Hop, hop, hop to the bar I went for urgent refreshments. We made it back with seconds to spare and then the glory of Take That were revealed.
Actually it was a bloody good concert - fantastic stage show - but the highlight was the sheer glory of Mr. O and his 3 ugly sidekicks giving it socks on stage. I was in lust. Bigtime. I could barely look at the big screen because of the vision of beauty in front of my very own eyes. And the other two beside me were just as bad - I nearly had to send them to time out to calm down... then it was over & I had to hobble from Jones Road down to Marino Mart to get a taxi. The girls could barely keep up with me as my trusty crutch was giving me superpowers of moving through crowds. Shame it didn't last as I was a wreck by the time we got back home. Ah well, nothing that vodka & ibuprofen couldn't cure!
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Milan was lovely, but very very expensive - and comign from Dublin, I'm well used to paying over the odds for everything - €8 for a beer! That Hilton upgrade came in very handy as we got lounge access which meant free booze after 6pm. They don't expect you to have more than 1 or 2 drinks, but hell we're Irish and we were celebrating. Based on the bar prices, we managed to sink about €150 worth of free booze & food - and I was fresh as a daisy the next morning. Lovely.
Monday, February 16, 2009
Eventually I went for the last resort - floods of sobbing, mascara running, pink-eyed tears and not just for effect, these yokes had to be sorted or I was in line for a P45. Them some auld cow (to quote Mammy Dearest) presented her big ugly jobsworth mug at the desk and hissed at me that she could not alter the procedure and that was that. Her accounts were so precious that they couldn't cope with an overpayment as it would send the whole house of cards tumbling down. Bitch. After a few minutes, one of the nice ladies slipped me a post-it with an address - the main Embassy around the corner and told me to get over there. So I trudged up the street, another Kleenex clutched in my hand and snotting for Ireland and rang the bell. God love the poor man who got to talk to me because I was incoherent. A few minutes passed and I hiccuped out my sorry tale - he told me to have a nice sit down and leave it with him. The receptionist, god love her, kept coming over to me with tissues - I was half expecting a Mammy hug, she was so sympathetic. So I sat, and I calmed down enough to stick the tissues back in my bag... then I realised I'd no makeup with me to repair the flood damage! The nice man came back to me, told me Jim (aka him) had fixed it and to go back to the Auld Cow who promised to play nice this time.
So, back to the other office, where the nice people were still lovely and the Auld Cow was nowhere to be seen. I was told to return at 2.30 and they'd have everything ready for me. There was nothing to be done but take a walk down to Harrods to persuade a nice makeup lady to repaint my ravaged face. Big love to Leah at the Bobbi Brown counter who put a hex on the Auld Cow for me and turned me back into a human. After all that drama, I richly deserved the glass of wine with my lunch!!!
On the way home from the airport, I called into see Little Sis and Lulu who I hadn't visited in ages. Lulu was transfixed when I explained where I was today - she kept repeating it to her Mum - Mammy, Auntie Peefa was in a car, on a plane, on a train, in a taxi, in more taxis, on a train, on a plane and then in her car to see me!!! Funny how it's all about you when you're nearly 4
Friday, February 13, 2009
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
There Was A Young Man Called Manuel
Whose customers regularly gave him hell,
But when asked for advice,
Didn't think twice
So now I think he's really rather swell!
That, ladies and gents is my ode to the wonderful Manuel who came to our aid last week when we were looking for somewhere nice to eat in Belfast. He recommended a restaurant called The Ginger Bistro on Hope Street, just a wee stagger in new shoes from the Europa where we had ensconced ourselves for the night. The food was absolutely gorgeous, the wine flowed freely and my god we were highly entertained by a table of our fellow diners, two of whom we immediately christened Lou and Andy due to their shocking resemblance to the boys above. The fat lad came in first, an XXXXXXXL beige polo shirt beaten onto him like spray on spandex - he had multiple moobs and more spare tyres than Quikfit - and a pair of denims with no belt. Yes, I almost did a little sick in my mouth and Hubs nearly got whiplash from trying to take a sneaky look at him. 10 minutes later, in strolled the other half of this freakyshow... a short-sleeved lemon shirt with epaulettes, pocket for the biro, grey Farah slacks, Deirdre Barlow specs (he really should have gone to SpecSavers), complete with beard & bald spot. It was quite the table of horrors - they all were either (a) teachers, (b) social workers or (c) civil servants. And that is why I always sit facing the room... it's how you get to see all the fun stuff!
Freaky diners aside, we had a great weekend in Belfast. The Europa has been done up since I was last there (on my hen... I kept having flashbacks and some of them were none too pretty!) and is all glossy and lovely apart from the shitehole that is the Lobby Bar. God it's the most depressing tip ever and one drink was plenty. The room was lovely, with one of the comfiest ever hotel beds we've stayed in - shame I couldn't fit it in my handbag - and great views. We dumped the bags and went for a wander around town. There was a ferris wheel in the grounds of City Hall so we had to take a trip, seeing as we got engaged on top of a ferris wheel in Paris. It was great fun altogether and well worth Hubs' money! We managed quite a bit of retail therapy for a hell of a lot less than at home... always fulfilling.
Funniest thing ever was seeing a 24 hour Tesco that only opens from 1pm on Sundays - what is it with Norn Iron and their allergy to working on the Sabbath? Although, it's probably a good idea because I was on a spendy roll and would have probably squandered the mortgage in the process!!
Thursday, January 1, 2009
As I write this with last night's makeup still on and wearing my faithful purple dressing gown (lucky I'm not single...), I'm thinking about the year that's just gone and what lies ahead. I believe that everything happens for a reason so there's no point in dwelling over crappy things and to be honest, nothing too bad happened in 2008 - everybody I love is still around so that's the main thing. Work has changed, perhaps necessarily, but not for the better - some of our "family" are no longer with us, and the transition period has been difficult to put it mildly. Little Sis got a DIY Voodoo Doll for Christmas and I was so tempted to nick it and make a revolving head with various people who I could stab in the eye with paperclips!