Archive for March, 2007

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

Thursday, 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

Tuesday, 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

Friday, 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

Wednesday, 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