And You Sleep While I Write All This Down

October 3rd, 2007

Now, where was I? Ah yes, Bolivia. I saw many weird and wonderfully awful things. I saw a boy throw a bag of urine out of a moving bus. And see it explode on impact. I saw a freshly dead cow’s head and hooves displayed daily at our local butcher’s (with the head scalped so you could see the brains inside). I saw myself actually getting on well with my nine housemates from Great Britain (it’s a good Britain- it’s not a great Britain). I saw, and managed to avoid, an oncoming truck beeping the crap out of the horn while I braked the frac out of my speeding bike at about 3,000 metres’ altitude descending the world’s most dangerous road. I saw communities that had no electricity, running water or roads- and proceeded to get violently ill. I saw a woman refuse to pick up her bawling four-year-old after he tripped on a step. ‘Cos that’s just the Andean way. I saw myself sitting on a toilet holding a basin in front of me praying the night would end.


If I know you guys- which I don’t- you’re all dying to know the weirdest things about San Jose, Costa Rica- where I’m living now, you dolt. According to TV’s Bono, the weirdest thing about Costa Rica is that the streets have no name. Seriously. People’s addresses are like ‘400m east, 100m north of the pharmacy, house with the blue door’. People carry umbrellas all the time- to guard either from the sun or the rain- there’s always one. There is no informal use of the second person singular, which means you’re always in polite mode. Parents address their kids using the polite form; kids address their dogs using the polite form; and, presumably, those dogs use it with other dogs while they’re sniffing each other’s backsides. Plenty more to follow, I’d assume. A year is a long time, everyone’s been telling me.


If you don’t know them, you really should. Their name’s Why? And they’re an indie rock hip hop act. Please, please, please don’t think Limp Bizkit. Stop it. Please stop. Now. Their harmonies and lyrics alone disown them from whatever ‘genre’ Durst crawled out from underneath. I’ve only got Elephant Eyelash and Sanddollars, but plan to get more. You should too.


In the three minutes I was back in Dublin for, I managed to squeeze in a few movies. I will proceed to give you my unwanted opinions. Julie Delpy rewrote (the predictable but thoroughly enjoyable) Before Sunset and gave us Two Gays in Paris. The New York Post described it best as “a situation salad”. No real substance or flavour but enjoyable nonetheless. Hopes for a definite plot should be left outside. It would have been twice as good if it wasn’t a total rehash of good stuff tha’s gone before.

Atonement was overrated. And I finally agree with all those girls who loathe Kiera “one face” Knightley.

Superbad wasn’t all that superbad. Or good, even. Thoroughly enjoyed it. I LOL’ d my pants to prove it. Here in Costa Rica, they’re calling it Supercool. Either they or I have completely missed the point of the original title.


In even further news, MySpace’s Lauren (from Houston, Texas) is going to Costa Rica in January and we’re planning to meet. I’ve met online people in real time before, but this would be a major step in my internet socialising/dating/rohypnol-planting escapades. With a bit of luck it’ll be a drunken disgrace of a night with plenty of RANDOMNEZZZZ LOLZZZZ 4 evaaaaaaaa!!!1111one!!! a la MySpace.

stigmund – a lesson in life

Area Man Updates Blog About How Boring Life Is

May 10th, 2007

I’ve ditched my old life as a redundancy-inducing idiot for the life of some rock and/or roll socialite idiot. An update. Try keep up.


I sang with a great group of lads called Funzo in a Battle of the Bands. We won of course and, as the prize, are now playing the main stage at Trinity Ball; supporting CSS, Ash and Hot Chip! Who saw that coming? We’re on at ten if any of yez are around and wanna j/cheer. I’m not sure how else we’re gonna differentiate between the sound check and the show. I’m so out of touch I’m Image-Googling some of the bands so I can get that special feeling when I spot them posing backstage; that feeling that they should know you ‘cos you know them. And you wanna spill your guts to them about why they’re so great and such. I hope the other artists don’t find that video of me.


I got back last night from a work trip to Leuven, Belgium. That’s all there is to tell.


I saw Joanna Newsom play Dublin a while back. Stunning show. Stright to the Top 5. Feel free to keep on hating her though, if that’s your stance- I found this. She needs a swift kick in the eye. Only the eye though. I like her singing, songwriting and playing; nothing else.


Next month I, along with her and him, am quitting my job! But not before I go to France to see CocoRosie! Woop woop! They play La Cartonnerie, Reims, which, literally translated, means The Cardboardery or The Boxery. So hopefully we can visit some of the cultural centres there and learn more about Reims’ rich cardboard-box-making heritage.

After that it’s to Apolo, Bolivia (more info here) for some cross-cultural training and orientation before I embark on my thrilling two month stint of voluntary work in Sussex. Wait a minute- strike that. Reverse it.


Things are up in the air right now but this superstar may have peaked and hit his Rishikesh phase way earlier than expected, because I may well be discovering myself (and Latin America) afterwards in Cuba for an (as yet undisclosed) amount of time.

Watch this space. If you dare. And other catchy soundbytes. Yum.

stigmund‘s fine! He’s more worried about you!

Something Rottin’ in the State of Denmark

April 11th, 2007

I am in Copenhagen. Just to prove I’m not lying I will scream the following: [whatever this was, it didn’t survive the Big Move sorry! – ed.]! Where else would I get away with something as kerazy as that other than a Danish university library? I rest my flimsy case.

I’ve been to a fascinating little place called Christiania. While being very cool and left wing and hippyish and all of that, it does have that annoying little ‘Do What You Feel’ factor; as long as you’re going against The System, Christianians are right behind you. They’ve only been paying tax for 3 years but they’ve been happy to send their kids to Danish schools for the last 36 years. Same goes for refuse collection and water works. And the inhabitants, Christianians*, are those crusty little smelly types who tend to shuffle from place to place and never shave enough (women included) or pull up their sleeves. In addition; while they contribute next to nothing by way of taxes and all of that, they don’t even allow photos within their borders. A nice touch. This didn’t stop me taking a photo of the ‘No Photos’ sign. Watch this space.

*I hear ‘Movementarians’ every time. “All aboard! Last call for Blisstonia!”


Moving on, Maddox’ April Fool’s was chuckleworthy as usual. A little note worth noting: I’ve stopped reading Mimi Smartypants. Dunno why. Guess I just stopped caring. And is it just me or is The Onion getting better and better?

And something I know you’re all nattering about: Chelsea and United through to the semis! Wow! A 7-1 and a 90th minute winner! Hoowee! I’ll see *you* in the comment box for more!

stigmund bitter? No, he just loves to complain

Oh Spring, Can I Wink at You? I’m Your Puppet

March 29th, 2007


March -- go to party re: Bonzo

April -- work, cruise around listenin’ to music too loud

May – prepare for trip to South America

June – go to South America

July -- some life-changing experiences (some life-changing diaorrhea)

August -- more stuff happens

September -- feel weird cos you’re not going back to school. September’s always weird

October -- start to need a proper coat going out

November -- complain about Christmas coming earlier every year

December -- worry about January

January -- quite chilly now. Bit sad

February -- little warmer. Some light rain. Glad January’s over

March -- go to party re: Bonzo

please forgive stigmund, he knows not what he does

Messages of a Textually Explicit Nature X

March 20th, 2007


It is a nice day. I don’t want to work. I want to walk the streets of Dublin, in a non-hooker way.

I am the man who will fight for your honour.

You are gay. And yes, I spelled u ‘you’! That’s how gay you are!

Damn those leps. Kick him.

Good ningt

You can do the things you always dreamed of: travel, go with me to the hospital, grow a beard.

Why are you awake? What’s castlebar?


Gym : (

D’da mig l’ngsamt. [that’s my best guess – ed.]

Meet you in the yard for a snowball fight?

Tonight I better hear a cover of Baby D’s ‘I Need Your Lovin” or else I’m gonna start throwing fistfuls of poo on stage from my plastic bag of faeces.

Fistfuls of poo.

stigmund‘s been flirting again

Hard to Envision Ronald McDonald Dating

March 16th, 2007

I’ve just been at a meeting where the following things were uttered in all sincerity:

You’d be quicker gettin’ into the queen’s knickers than that database.

Give them a bit of culture on the way.

Do I have to stay for this?

stigmund as stigmund now, not stigmund as a worm

Guess who’s back, guess who’s back, guess who’s back

March 14th, 2007

In a recent conversation with a friend about television, or “TV” as it is increasingly become known, I realised I just don’t bother with the thing anymore. Anything worth watching one evening will be on YouTube or something similar by tomorrow morning, when I can watch it in the comfort of my own workplace, and at a time when it won’t be eating into my valuable free time, or “me time” as it is popularly known. By me. Any of you disagree? Watch everything you’ve ever watched (again) here. Or better still, here.


The battle rages. Who cares about the most logical points to be made when you can just enjoy the funniest ones. Maddox speaks out with his piece ‘One thing PC owners can do that Mac Owners Can’t’.

Joanna Newsom’s name‘s been bandied about a lot these days at student parties, in hip indie circles and college campuses the world over. Even that Metacritic place felt they should give their tuppence worth. But one listen to Ys had me convinced. I’m living proof that you don’t need to be a wispy guitar-playing girl or even have an arts degree to ‘appreciate’ her. The album is stunning. Van Dyke Parks added her to the ever-growing ridiculousness that is the list of artists with whom he has collaborated. He deserves almost as much credit for the magic of the album as her, but eitherwise: I will be at her gig in Vicar Street. I agree with those who find her voice childlike but she has expressed her “disappointment at the child-like comparison” so give her a break, will you. Sheesh. Here’s a woweepop, Joanna. Good girl.


When the possibility of going to another country comes up I am always happy. Because I will be in 97% of cases going to a country I haven’t been to before, or have been and would love to revisit. The 3% represents the possibility of ending up in (a) Britain or (b) Belgium. A work trip to Russia has just been cancelled and replaced with a trip to Belgium. This is like cancelling your birthday and replacing it with someone else’s. I’ve never even been but still, it totally doesn’t count. En plus, every Belgian person I’ve ever met has been an insufferable bore. Yeah, I’m talking to you. With your ‘Flemish’ (it’s Dutch, get over yourselves!) and your sweet sweet waffles. I am making up for this huge disappointment by going to Copenhagen for Easter. Take that, Belgium.


The Number 23 is bad, Venus is good. Pan’s Labyrinth is excellent, Bobby is not. The Science of Sleep is a little arty, just the right amount of farty and tri-lingual. Hot Fuzz is an anti-climax (see: Why You Shouldn’t Go To Movies On Opening Night), John Lennon vs. America was the opposite. Notes on a Scandal is thrilling, The Last King of Scotland is meh. For Your Consideration is brilliant, but a little jaded? Dreamgirls was pleasantly surprising. There are others. They were…yes.


Freedom Writers looks atrocious.

*Cut to brainstorming session at Paramount Pictures.*

-“Hmm how ’bout this one. I’m thinkin’ triumph over adversity… battling unrealistically against all the realistic odds… I’m thinking insulting the viewer… I’m thinkin’ street kids in a school on dead end street meet new teacher who also happens to be a naive romantic… Think Dangerous Minds meets cliche overload!”


Add Million-Dollars’-Worth-of-Shit Hilary Swank to the mix and you have the most screen-punchable movie of the year. And I saw Dreamgirls.


Pixyland has us disturbed no end (me and Babette). Do feel free to scroll around. Or just check out my personal highlights.


I know I’ve been away quite a while and for that I apologise. You can now rest in the assurance that Stigmund is alive and well; Spaced is great but certainly no Office*, Simon Pegg’s latest was not worth all the fuzz (oh dear) and The Graduate and Gone With the Wind are still classics. Phew, that feels better.

*Spaced relies too heavily on flash-back/film parody/whacky fantasy moment to even come close while The Office, well, doesn’t. The Office doesn’t just make us laugh, it has a deep understanding of people and how we interact. It has an ability to get inside our hearts and minds and move us (even physically, as we squirm) while Spaced does another Matrix rip-off. Family Guy has ensured I won’t find that kind of stuff funny for a while/again by beating the parodies beyond all hope of humour. Spaced is tenderly and lovingly made, snappily shot and well-acted. But I find it simplistic when I see Tim making excuses for not returning to university, breaking up with the new girl or David Brent pleading with Neil for his job back. Also, Spaced uses running gags (e.g. zany painter, token stoner). Blah.

While we’re on it, token stoners: what is the deal? They are not funny. Why must so many movies/TV shows have one person who’s consistently hallucinating/babbling/entertaining people with no sense of humour. I could write a token stoner scene while I’m watching some bad busker on Grafton St. on my lunch break. It’s easy, unfunny and pointless. Ashton Kutcher played one in Bobby and at the same screening there was a trailer for another movie with Ben Stiller playing the exact same token stoner character. There are loads. They are not funny. FIN.

My chest feels lighter. Although that probably has a lot more to do with my breast reduction surgery last week.

stigmund is the source of the light and the meteor’s just what we see

My Very Own Piece of the Apple Pie

January 8th, 2007
Bring it on, 2007. You don’t fool no-one! You’re all talk; just like that 2006 schmoe. He was so full of it and look at him now. Just another dead year with Top 10 lists for a tombstone. Pathetic.

So I was in gay Paris again. It’s so great visiting all France’s wonderful capital has to offer. I visited McDonald’s, KFC, H and M, Hard Rock Cafe, Benetton, HMV and Starbuck’s (twice). Man, I love France. I even sampled some killer French humour during my stay. Here are some French jokes that only work in French. In English.

There’s a newly married couple and it’s their wedding night. They arrive in their hotel room where there is a double bed, a wardrobe, a mirror, a lit candle and a dresser. What do they do?

Answer: the candle!

Haha, brilliant. Another? Ok, ok.

Q: If Sean Connery and Aretha Franklin had a baby together what would they call it?

A: Stop your nonsense!

Ah, those Frenchies. Is there anything they can’t do.

Betamax was on about mash-ups a while ago. While old news now, The Beatles’ LOVE album (not to be confused with Westlife’s- thanks, Mom) is one sweet deal altogether. I still LOVE it. See what I did there? Eh? No? I used the name of the album in my expression of a strong sentiment of mine for the album. But I’m sure Beta needs no advice from little ol’ me. He only went and made the sweetest mix CD for an elite group of us which has tickled me no end. I’m also planning a burglary on his place soon enough to swipe any CDs I can get me hands on. And anything else that takes my fancy. He has been warned.


I like to read (music and film) reviews. A lot. I like to find people who agree with me, who also happen to be more eloquent than me and express my views in a way I’m not sure I could. Or those who pinpoint some infuriatingly niggling aspect of a piece of media that I wouldn’t have been able to identify myself. Today I found one of those reviews: Stranger than Fiction by Defective Yeti. As with the vast majority of reviews, this should not be read until you’ve seen the movie.

Reviews or no reviews, A Good Year should be avoided at all costs. Deja Vu to a slightly lesser extent.

Christmas 2003 I started saving money old-school style: in a huge Celebrations chocolates tin. I opened it this Christmas. I haven’t finished counting but I’m currently at E1,150. Yum.

Here’s to more posts in 2007. Not blog posts now, goalposts or summat.

stigmund can’t get through, he’s wondering how you are

Messages of a Textually Explicit Nature IX

January 4th, 2007


A bum on the street just told me to get my hair cut!

I was talking to your dad and he was saying he was worried you were gay and I was saying Sean, you have to love him anyway and he said no no, can’t do that. Pity.


The thought of you two brothers singing together warms my pants and brings a moistness to run down my leg and drip drip with every step. Please be more considerate.

Too lizzle- I’m nearly at the Grizzle. But I’ve to go pizzle and have a fizzle. Bizzle.

Sah-weet. If I was beside you and it was 1995 and we weren’t Irish and Paddy Casey wasn’t an alien then I would totally high five you right now. You go girl.

For the last time, I AM a nigger faggot!

See y’all real soon I reckon. I’ll be at the bar, the one wearing ten balloons, nothing more. P.S. Bring a pin.

Just before I left this morning I looked for my chumps and couldn’t see them anywhere, so we need some of those.

How was football? Are you tired? I heard you get that from exercise but what do I know.

Q: What do you call a hobgoblin in a wheelie bin? A: You don’t ever make direct contact with it- always inform the police and stay at least fifteen feet away.

Just sneezed while standing at sink. Whacked head real hard.

There are ten pins in my heart; you’ve knocked over eight. Won’t you please pick up that spare?

Oh my goodness I’m SO embarrassed! It’s not like you can just blame it on somebody else like a fart. I’d kill for a wind problem.

stigmund finds it so much easier to talk about what he likes

The Jews are Shifting Shapes!

November 5th, 2006

Anyone else seen Borat? The movie is a series of shocking real-life Borat clips (for those who are familiar with the show. For those who aren’t, go here, then go to the cinema and see the movie) held together with a loose storyline- with a message believe it or not. Unbelievable. Genuinely shocking stuff.

I know it’s too late to see it at the cinema, but even when it comes out on DVD avoid Brothers of the Head like the plague. A really bad plague.


Is this a joke?

For Zoomtard. And this too.

For everyone.

I mentioned before about how girls are not so hot on the music. Obviously there are many talented songwriters with (their own) ovaries but the majority of musicians and songwriters (good or bad) are male. I’m sure many of you have your own theories on this- I’m not expecting anyone to deny that this is so..? I’m not going to give any of my own theories here, I’m just using this paragraph as a cunning intro to my bit on The Pipettes. The last time I mentioned music and women in the same sentence one young pup put forward The Pipettes as evidence of sisters doin’ their thing. Turns out they do some guy’s thing. And his thing is cute girls singing about school and sex and wearing polka dot dresses. Rumours abound on their true identities and the band’s history but having seen them live and met them in person I am quite convinced of their MANufacturedness (like that?). They are the (very entertaining) brainchild of a guitarist stroke music promoter called “Monster” Bobby, currently a member of The Cassettes, The Pipettes’ (all male) backing band. He came up with the concept of the group and penned half the album before they even existed. Others have suggested that even the name, Pipettes, stemmed from the fact that this group was merely a project or experiment. The Cassettes deliberately avoid any interviews or publicity, to keep the focus on the girls. This publicity choreography was also evident from the set up at their gig in Temple Bar Music Centre, Dublin, last month. The musicians stayed at the back in the dark while the girls stood out front in the spotlights, dancing, singing and looking pretty, even taking it in turns to stand in the middle so you were never far from your favourite Pipette for too long (Rosay, obviously). Their album supports the facade: all songwriting credits are attributed to “The Pipettes”. Anywise, this review from CokeMachineGlow sums up (in a way I couldn’t) the contradiction they present here.

Not just to prove I’m not biased, here’s one of the best things you’ll ever see.

While we’re on the subject of ridiculously good musical performances I’d like to join Zoomtard in singing Sufjan‘s praises. He was stunning. I can’t describe it. All I’ll say is that while he was performing Majesty Snowbird I had my hands over my mouth, was laughing and had tears streaming down my face, purely because I could barely keep up/take in what was happening musically on stage. Unreal.

Staying with that theme, check this the hell out, average homeboys. What words would you use to describe it? I can’t find one. “As you can see I am not black, I don’t do drugs and I’m not on crack”. Where to begin?
stigmund lost a dossier and a Monty Python CD