Saturday, April 19, 2014

My three most embarassing memories


So it's a Saturday night and I really had a strong thirst for alcohol tonight. However, my friends are much more studious and well behaved and therefore the idea of going out was swiftly brushed aside. Now here I am, alone, and left to my own thoughts and devices, my fake tan is drying in and the fumes (a distinct mix of dried in cats pee and mustiness) are sending me into a mild state of The Fear. 

I assume you are all aware of what The Fear is. If, however, you live under a rock here is what Urban Dictionary defines The Fear as: 

·         "The Fear" is the sense that you have done yourself some lasting damage after a night of drinking. It's symptoms are: 



- A feeling that you are going to die soon (and not just due to other hangover symptoms); 

- A sense that people or organizations are out to get you; 
- Angst that you may have offended, inappropriately touched or physically attacked someone the night before; 
- Foreboding about the next time you meet the people or return to the bar where you degraded yourself the previous night. 



The fear is often accompanied by "The Remorse" where you are also genuinely ashamed and sorry for the way you have behaved, as well as simply frightened for the sake of your own wellbeing.

Concerned Friend: "How are you feeling after last night?" 

Sufferer: "I am riddled with The Fear. And cat AIDS."



As I have now been a whole week without alcohol (an amazing feat I know), clearly my fear is not induced by alcohol. In my case, as I am left to my own thoughts, I recall times of embarrassment. Times where I have been drunk and have behaved in a laughable manner or indeed times when I have been sober and simply have behaved as myself and made a giant TIT out of myself. 

So for some bizarre reason I have decided to tell you all three stories of woe. Three times when I have truly stuck my foot in the bucket of shite and made a fool of myself. 

*no idea why i used this meme. I just thought it was funny.

1. Intoxicated

It kind of hurts my feelings when people tell me they haven't been to Coppers. I don't care how hip, trendy or alt you claim to be or how much you detest cheesy pop music, GAA jerseys and overpriced drink, you need to visit Coppers at least ONCE in your life. 

So obviously my first tale of embarrassment occurred in Coppers. Let me warn you, if you think you make a shite of yourself in normal clubs or you know, have the one that's one too many, then in Coppers you can pretty much be assured that you will most certainly do something to humiliate yourself at some stage in here. 

I reckon it was about a year ago when I was up in Dublin for my friend's birthday and obviously enough I was capsized in alcohol and wearing heels that were definitely too high for the levels of alcohol in my system. With that ratio already imbalanced (like me) there was sure to be danger ahead. So there I was, thinking I was shit hot, walking (stumbling) from the top floor to the bottom when I reached the stairs. Now, managing the stairs in heels is difficult enough sober, so you can imagine where this story is going. 

From what I remember, I was counting my steps mentally as I made my way down. This is a tactic I use when manoeuvring stairs when drinking as I feel I concentrate more on my footwork and lessen my chances of falling. Tonight that would not work. Off I went, arse over tits, flying into the air and landed at the bottom of the stairs with my top, firmly placed over my head, torso, tits, the lot, all on show for the whole of coppers to see. Oh and I lost one of my shoes. Yep.


2. Sober

Now many of you will wonder, "Why in the good name of Christ is she telling people this??” for my next delightful story. This story is one of those things where, yes you are completely mortified but the story is so funny that you will get over the mortification in order to let other people share in the joy of it.

This incident occurred in second year of secondary school. I was in pass Maths (numbers and I have never worked well together) and it was actually one of my favourite classes to go to, for the craic, not for the learning. Anyhoo, we mostly spent our time acting the maggot and wrecking our poor teachers head, and she would always threaten us with 'I'll send ye back to where ye came from!!" (I.e. Honours Maths).

 So one day she again threatened us with eviction and through some means of a fellow classmate making a joke about it, myself and my friend Sinead got kicked out of the class for laughing hysterically. Outside the lab door we counted the bricks on the wall in order to stop ourselves from laughing out loud and when class was over she called ninety percent of the class back, including ourselves, to give out stink to us. While she gave out I was so concentrated on not laughing in her face that I can only recall the last words she said "And that will put the wind up ye'r skirts!!" and with that I emitted gas. Loudly. Yes, I farted. 

To which she replied "Not literally!!!!!!"

3. Sober

My last story happened most recently. As you are probably all aware, I am now in college in DIT in Dublin. One day in between lectures I needed to pass urine. As one usually does in a situation such as this, I made my way to the toilets. In this case you need to walk in a main door and then based on whether you are a boy or a girl you pick the appropriate door to enter. Off I went, into the bathroom that I thought was designated for girls. It was empty and I recall finding it peculiar that it only had two cubicles in it. Sitting down in the cubical I questioned where the sanitary bin was. (I actually thought these exact words: “Where the fuck is the fanny bad bin? What a fucking shit hole college, doesn’t even provided bins for tampons”.)

I could hear someone outside the cubical door and even at this stage I was still perfectly oblivious to the fact that I was indeed, in the men’s toilets. Out I pop from the cubical to be greeted by an EXTREMELY good looking guy pissing into a urinal. (OMG JUST THINKING BACK MAKES ME CRINGE.) I actually had the fucking audacity to ask him a loud was this not the girl’s toilets. AS HE PEED INTO A URINAL? I even stayed to wash my hands because in fairness, it only would have made it worse if I looked unhygienic as well as a fucking lunatic.


Anyone have any good embarrassing stories to share? LOL 



Friday, February 28, 2014

Omelette Muffins (HEALTHY!!!!)

Upon becoming, once again, inspired to stop eating like a fat shite (for lack of a better description) I decided to give these omelette cupcakes/muffins a go. I've seen them all over Pinterest and the food blogging world, with people making them in bulk to last them the entire week, to be used as meals or as a quick filling snack.
I LOVE eggs and these are ridiculously easy to make so it's a win-win situation for me.

Some blogs called for one egg per muffin, but they must be using mahoosive cupcake holders as I only used 5 eggs for 9 muffins! Basically pick out whatever kind of fillings you'd normally have with an omelette. Mine are vegetarian but I reckon chorizo would have been DIVINE in these badboys. 

Here's what I used:
5 eggs
Drop of milk
Tabasco
Salt 
Pepper
All Spice Seasoning

Half a corgette
Half a red pepper
Half an onion
5 Mushrooms
Grated Cheese

What to do:
Preheat your oven to 190 degrees

I chopped the vegetables into small chunks and added a bit of each to each case. 
Mix the five eggs in a jug with a splash of milk and season the mixture. Pour the egg mixture into each case, but not too high as they do rise in the oven.

They need to cook for around 20 minutes so half way through I added some grated cheese to the tops of them to ensure it was melted but not burnt (KEY TO SUCCESS)

You'll know theyre cooked by sticking a knife into the centre of them and if it comes out clean you're good to go. Leave them to stand for a few minutes when you take them out, and then carefully remove them from the tray onto a plate, remove the wrappers and eat them, obviously. 

From what I've read elsewhere, you can keep them in an airtight container, (a lunchbox, for you simpletons out there), in the fridge and they can be eaten hot or cold within the confines of a week. Don't take my word in health and safety matters , if you think they're gone off after a few days then don't bloody eat them!

However, my conclusion on them is that they are scrumptious!

Goodnight Irene 










Missing Flights and Eating Shite

Jaysis sorry for the hiatus lads, I know you were all barely sleeping without my wonderful blog posts, but alas here I am again. As I am mostly back up in Dublin and my laptop won't allow me to access my Microsoft Word (distressing) the only time I can write something juicy is at the weekends. However I am usually drinking, working or hungover which proves writing something coherent quite difficult to say the least.
Anyways, here I am in all my glory and before I get onto the food, I'll fill you in on my awe inspiring life. 




Last weekend I crossed the Irish Sea to visit my soulmate Edel in Aberdeen, Scotland. It was an absolutely HILARIOUS weekend and on Monday morning I set off in a taxi to the airport. What is normally a 20 minute commute, turned into an hour and a half long journey in back to back traffic, thanks to temporary traffic lights and a car crash. Confirming your suspicions, yes, I missed the fucking flight. Stuck in the airport, customer services being unhelpful asshats, I took it upon myself to sit in a toilet cubicle, ring my mother and cry. All I could think of was how in gods name I had made it to America and changed airports on my own before, and when tasked with leaving Aberdeen I was up shit creek. 

MIND BOGGLING. 

To cut a long story short, flights with Aer Lingus later that day were going to cost a whopping €300! That's a one way, 45 minute flight to Ireland. HOLY FUCK. I ended up staying with Edel another night and getting a 4 hour bus to Edinburgh airport to get a €90 flight home with Ryanair. 

Moral of the story: Always leave around 10 hours to get to the airport. Just in case.

In terms of the diet, as you can imagine, it has been pretty horrific. In fact, I'm terrifed to get back on the weighing scales. I feel kind of inspired to start again so I'll be bringing runners up to Dublin this week as well as homemade soup and Omellette muffins I made, in an attempt to get back on the bandwagon. 

Here are some of the things I've been eating:







My new favouite way to eat porridge is by mashing up a banana, adding some flaxseed mix and around a tablespoon of maple syrup and then mixing it through the porridge. I find it much more filling than just regular porridge. 



 I also do not find soup filling on its own. I'm always bloody hungry after, so I started added cooked quinoa to soup to make it more protein packed and filling. 


Rather than making this blog post any longer than it already is, I am going to post a separate one on a new recipe I tried out today: Omellette Muffins.

Later bitches,

Goodnight Irene 

Thursday, January 30, 2014

Why you should fear the power that the Catholic Church still has on human rights in Ireland. (LGBT rights)

Ever since I understood or was aware that people could be gay, lesbian, bisexual or straight I found it absolutely mind boggling how, regardless of which one of those “status’” you relate to, if you identified with any of the first three you were discriminated against. It is a simple fact, today, in the 21st century, when we’re supposed to have flying cars and find the cure for cancer, many people are busy having explosive diahorrea over the thought of two men or two women uniting in marriage and having a family.

I come from quite a religious family. We were all raised Catholics and mass every Sunday was non- negotiable, (Until of course I turned eighteen and realised I could utilise Sundays for curing a hangover, like a sloth, in my bed.)  Since I can remember I’ve always had an urge to challenge ‘the system’. Basically if I felt like something was bullshit or it didn’t suit my views I would have a great deal to say about it. Now you can imagine how my teenage raging hormones fuelled these ‘FUCK THE SYSTEM’ rants and after many years attending church I found myself constantly challenging and questioning the validity and supposed reality of what it teaches.
Why were there no female priests? Why did we say “Lord I am not worthy to receive you but only say the world and my soul shall be healed’ when I had done nothing wrong in the first place? Why did priests often give out about divorce and homosexuality, rather than focusing on the core idea behind the church: forgiveness and acceptance? These were just some of the many things I questioned about this religion I was brought up to believe in.
The outcome of my questioning was this: the Catholic Church and the vast majority of groups associated with are giant, raging, hypocritical HOMOPHOBICS and SEXISTS. 

What is a homophobic you may ask?
Homophobia is a range of negative attitudes and feelings toward homosexuality or people who are identified or perceived as being lesbian, gay, bisexual or transgender. It can be expressed as antipathy, contempt, prejudice, aversion or hatred. It may be based on irrational fear and is sometimes related to religious beliefs

Now, I take great joy in introducing you to the Iona Institute. You may remember this bunch of moronic fatheads from this OBVIOUSLY homophobic video:


Now with that joyful video in mind, I’ll tell ye a little story about these pricks. So say what you will about Drag Queens, but I fucking love them. (I even dressed up as one for Halloween one year because I love their over the top make up so much). Anyways, Rory O Neill is also known as Panti Bliss when kitted out in drag. He appeared on the Saturday Night Show recently and mentioned that there is homophobia within the country and that it is especially visible on the internet (TROLLZ) and through the media (i.e. ‘journalists’ who get paid to write their views on ‘teh gayz’)

He goes on to mention names of these so called journalists: John Waters and Breda O Brien and suddenly the shit hit the fan. RTE receive legal threats and complaints from the Iona Institute and ends up releasing an apology for the words of Rory O Neill during that segment of the show.

Say hello to Breda O’Brien:



As well as having a face like a bucket of squashed crabs, Breda is also a raging homophobe.


The Iona institute, along with the Catholic Church teaches that marriage is a union solely built for men and women and it must not be redefined in any shape or form. What I find comical about the church is that they like to pick and choose what they do and don’t believe in.

For instance, in the New Testament it says:
You shall not lie with a male as one lies with a female; it is an abomination." 

BUT it also says
 “That does not have fins and scales among all the teeming life of the water, and among all the living creatures that are in the water, they are detestable” (i.e. you can’t eat prawns or mussels or any other type of shellfish)

I wonder have Breda or John ever eaten sausages?
Leviticus 11:8, which is discussing pigs, reads "You shall not eat of their flesh nor touch their carcasses; they are unclean to you." 

  Let’s hope they haven’t because they’re likely to burn in the smelly pits of hell if they have as they have broken the rules of the Bible.

Anyhow, the whole idea of marriage, according to these people, is that children have ‘a mammy and a daddy’. Now, let us pause for a moment and think about the amount of divorced couples within the church, the amount of children who have been abandoned by their parents and are in state homes or orphanages around the world. Or how about the children who grow up with just a dad or a mom, and have never heard or seen sight nor light of their other parent, either through death or absence. The reality is this is a very common occurrence throughout the world, not just in Ireland. So the gays can’t reproduce. But male and female couples are not exactly role models for the perfect family units either. UNICEF stated that in 2005 there were over 132 million orphans in Sub Saharan Africa, Asia, Latin America and the Caribbean. How many of those children would be delighted to be adopted and have two parents, regardless of gender, to love and care for them. Many Conservatives will oppose this idea with disgust. Their argument being: “YOU’LL MAKE THE CHILDREN GAY TOO”. But hang on, how many of these gay parents came from two straight parents? Therefore, their argument is completely invalid.



My whole qualms with the lack of acceptance of LGBT rights within Ireland and the world as a whole is that more often than not, the church has a massive role in the opposition. The church and state should have absolutely no connection. We cannot make our laws with the views of any religion in mind, as by doing this we are marginalising a massive part of society. It baffles me as to why, in Ireland especially, we allow the church to do wrong by us over and over again and no one bats an eyelid. We need to wake up, open our minds and our eyes. Homosexuality is NOT a choice. It is how people are meant to be.


Why can’t we let people be happy? Life is miserable enough already without making issues out of something as simple as marriage and human rights. Seriously, if Mary and Margaret want to get married and adopt children what effect will this ultimately have on your life?
NO REALLY, THINK ABOUT IT?

Will you need Anti Depressants? Will your every thought be about what Mary and Margaret might be doing?

Seriously lads, we’re in the 21st century and it honestly pains me that we are still this fucking backward.

LIVE AND LET LIVE

Goodnight Irene



Tuesday, January 21, 2014

Food diary and weightloss updates

 This week was quite testing as I had to go back up to Dublin to do an exam (which was horrific if any of you were wondering) and stayed up to go out to my usual haunt, Coppers. It started off okay and I even chose an orange as a snack rather than the usual biscuits/chocolate/caramel sundae/Big Mac etc. I had porridge before my exam and soup after. Then I became comatose and when I woke I was unable to even process the thought of conjuring up something healthy or even unhealthy myself. Therefore Fagan’s (Bertie Aherns local if you ever wanted to egg him), provided the food for the night. I didn't take photos, probably because I was ashamed at myself for giving in so easily but by JESUS was it delicious. I justified it as being a post exam reward and I regret nothing. 

So after getting absolutely capsized in Coppers we returned home to Galway the next morning, with Joyce being our chauffeur. Now the lovely Joyce actually failed to inform us that we would have to wait with her whilst her car got the oul NCT test (much to my distaste as I was actually wearing Piglet fluffy pyjamas) and I had the joyful experience of doing a strip show for everyone on the motorway as I tried to change into regular clothes before we got to Galway.

QUICK SIDENOTE: If someone offered you a lift home from Dublin to Galway, would you assume that they would be bringing you straight home and not ask questions like: "Oh will we be accompanying you to the NCT test?" or "Will we be making a stop in Bangladesh?". I feel as though I was justified in having a shit attack when Joyce decided to tell me that we had to wait and never told me not to wear my pyjamas on the way home.

ANYWAYS. Things only got bloody worse on the food front due to this unforeseen stress of getting up at 7 AM and travelling to Galway still pissed drunk. We were absolutely STARVED when we got into the city and were facing at least an hour’s wait for the blessed test to be complete. Therefore the only option open to us was Centra, where I purchased and inhaled none other than a calorie free (ahem) breakfast roll. Now you can also imagine why I didn’t take a photo of this.

Despite these two pitfalls I gathered myself back together and made a better attempt for the rest of the week. Can I just say, watching your brothers INHALE bread, pasta, pancakes etc and not put on a pound is HIGHLY distressing. 

One of the photos below features the oils, spices and sauces I've been using. These are just a few, but are definitely my favourites: 

Rapeseed oil (chilli and regular, it’s one of the better oils for cooking with).
Char grilled Chicken Seasoning
Extra Spicy Cajun Seasoning 
Spicy Season All (my fave)
Cumin (it's the base of a lot of curry sauces)
Tabasco (I'M ADDICTED)
Soy Sauce
Vegetable Stock Pots

It was my friend Sinead's birthday on Saturday and she is an absolute genius when it comes to making food that suits different dietary requirements (gluten free, dairy free etc). She made a chocolate cake that was literally EVERYTHING free and these little heart chocolates that had blended dates as a substitute for caramel (really really good!) My favourite part was the hummus she made which was blended chickpeas, sundried tomatoes and chilli powder. DIVINE and suited to my dietary requirements (i.e. skinny)

So overall it was pretty good. I'm of the opinion that it's simply ridiculous to live your life eating completely 'clean' and not have the craic and eat a dirty burger every now and again. Have some shredded duck instead of shredded abs :)

And don't be a bollox X

Goodnight Irene

BTW I LOST 2 POUNDS 





Beef stew
2 Poached eggs & beans 


Veg choopped up which I made into soup which in turn was VIOLENT (FAIL)
Healthy food layout (and vodka, my true love) at Sineads 
Close up of prawn omelette 
Spices and oils I commonly use (description above) 
Slender Slim noodles. Despite my captions I actually did end up liking them. 
 Brunch: avocado, poached egg, smoked salmon, olives & left over veg & noodles.

Tuesday, January 14, 2014

Weight Loss & Food Diary Update


I cannot seem to find a term for what I'm doing. I don't like to call it a diet because it's too short term. And lifestyle change is far too hipster for my liking. Alas, I am still doing 'it' and have been for about a week and a bit now. When I begrudgingly stood up on the scales this morning, bollix naked and shaking with the cold (Global Warming my hole.) I was absolutely terrified that rather than losing any weight, I had gained it. Alas, I had actually lost 3.5 lbs! Praise Jehovah and all of his Witnesses. 
This post is going to be basically a food diary of what I have been eating. I haven't started exercising as such yet, besides the two walks I've been on with my dog, as I want to be immersed in the eating before I start weaning myself into strenuous movement. (I am the laziest person you'll ever meet). 

Rather than going into detail on every meal featured, I am just going to give a brief description of how I've been eating healthier. Anyone who knows me knows I am OBSESSED with cheese. So if you see it featured and are thinking 'oh that’s not healthy', well fuck you. I love cheese and we will not be separated. 

Here are some of the ways I am replacing 'bad' foods with 'healthy' alternatives:
Mayonnaise = Crème Fraiche or Sour Cream or Avocado
Potatoes = Roasted Turnip
Chocolate/Sweets = Trail Mix (available in Dunnes, basically just nuts & dried fruit)
Sauces (Ketchup/BBQ etc) = Herbs & Spices, Tabasco, Mustard.

Any questions, feel free to cur ceist orm.

CYA

Goodnight, Irene


Tuna, Poached Egg, Spinach, Olives, Peppers, Creme Fraiche & Tabasco Salad:

 Steak, Mushrooms & Onions. Roasted veg (honey, soy sauce, rapeseed oil, garlic granules, tabasco)
 2 egg yolk & 1 egg white omelette. Spinach, cheddar cheese, tomatoes, turkey, olives & 1/2 avocado
 'Power Salad' from Arabica with added chicken. 
 Steak, roasted veg (same as above). Sauce = Creme Fraiche & mustard combined.
 Omelette = same as above but with chicken. 
 Cully & Sully Vegetable soup (not the best i know but I was sick of chicken & veg) Can of Tuna mixed with mayo, beetroot, olives & half cheese slice)
 Green smoothie. I actually used 2 oranges instead of 2 apples. I also used 1/2 a pint of water, table spoon of yoghurt & 2 tablespoons of the 'Seeds for Cereal' pack in the pic. Oh and about a handful of spinach. If you're nervous about trying this it just tastes like fruit, the spinach has its benefits but you can't taste it!
 Pesto Chicken: As you can see you just bate the shite out the chicken (imagine it's someone you dislike :) ) then fill it with a combo of sour cream, pesto and some cheese. Bake in tin foil in the oven for about 40 mins. (SO NICE)



Monday, January 13, 2014

Are you a sexually active woman? Congratulations! You're a SLUT. Celebrity Big Brother Rant


Preface: I really need to rant. If you want to understand why I am so angry then I would highly recommend watching this episode of Celebrity Big Brother Here before reading this. 



I am a feminist. You are probably thinking I hate all men, want all women to tear their bras off, become lesbians and keep the men in cages so they can donate their sperm to keep the world running. Funnily enough, I am the polar opposite of that description (although I would enjoy a world where it was socially acceptable to never wear a bra). I love men and as a feminist, I want equality for both sexes, not just us ladies. With that in mind, you can now go forth to read my angry tirade against that ASSHAT Dappy.

To briefly summarize what happened in the episode, Luisa and Dappy get into an argument when he suggests that he can sleep around, cheat on his girlfriend etc, but if she does the same, then she is a slag. Obviously Luisa and Jasmine disagreed with this because logically it doesn’t really make sense. It is like saying: When Dappy cleans the house he is being tidy, but when Luisa cleans the house she is being dirty’. The deed is the same but what they did is being considered completely different things.

Anyways, the argument escalated very quickly and to a nonsensical level when Dappy being the stupid twerp he is started stalking Luisa around the house, shouting out his GCSE grades over and over and saying that Luisa slept with 5 guys in one night and it was ‘dirty’. My qualms with this entire thing are:

a) How Dappy cannot fathom the fact that male and females performing the same acts are in fact the same fucking thing.
b) That because Luisa slept with five men in one night, she should not be considered a woman.


Let’s turn this into a little story. Let’s say Joe Bloggs, a stranger, down the road decided he’d go out and have sex with 5 people in one night. He does so and thoroughly enjoys it. When you wake up the next morning, do you feel as though your whole day, and possibly life has been ruined by what Joe did last night? NO. YOU ARE NOT AN IDIOT. And what if poor oul Joe gets an STI? Will you too begin to itch your genitals? OBVIOUSLY NOT.  Why is it when people want to do things that don’t harm others (gay marriage being another prime  example) half the fucking country gets diarrhoea? Allow me to make this clear. If I go out and have consensual, protected sex with 48 people in one night, then that is MY choice and should not bear any meaning on your existence.

Obviously there’s the whole age old argument of the lad going out, getting the ride and getting a pat on the back for being a legend (because intercourse is comparable to discovering fire apparently) but if a girl does the same and ever dares speak about what she did, she is immediately considered damaged goods. I seriously cannot cope with this logic. People watch porn all of the time, people have threesomes, and people generally love to have sex. Why is it that it has such a stigma attached to it when it is associated with an average woman? I guarantee you Dappy has had a solo session below before whilst watching porn. Is it okay to wank to your heart’s content over these porn stars and then when you actually meet a girl, who has had sex with more than one person in her life, you deem her to be worthless, not even a woman? (I wish he expanded on what he thinks a woman is). Can I also add that Dappy was arrested before for spitting in the face of a woman who refused his advances. Lovely. 

Grow the fuck up is all I can say. Dappy is a wanna be gangster who makes shit music and thinks all of the females in the world want to sit on his lap and shake his third leg. NEWSFLASH DAPPY: YOU LOOK LIKE A 12 YEAR OLD!!!
I know there are plenty of more Dappys out there. Unfortuantely this world must have quotas of fucktards to create.
In the fine words of Lily Allen: It’s hard out here for a bitch

Goodnight, Irene