Posts Tagged ‘security

09
Nov
09

To whoever’s Googling my email address

In the last week this blog has received a number of hits from web-searches of my email address. This post is a direct appeal to the person or persons typing my address into a search-engine and getting directed to my site as a result. Please stop. It’s freaking me out. Whatever the reason you’re doing this is, I find it impossible to believe it’s one I’d approve of.

Maybe there is a reasonable and above-board explanation for searching my address, but if it’s a case that you need information on me that I don’t mind imparting you can always just contact me and ask. For fuck sake, you have my address.

09
Jun
09

All Ears

I was in Galway for a couple of days last week, when I called into the hotel where I used to work. It’s something I do whenever I’m out west, as it’s a wonderful place (Glenlo Abbey Hotel) and I really enjoyed working there. It’s good to see the auld crew occasionally. Anyway, as I was sitting at the bar I overheard a conversation that I just had to share (kind of like that All Ears column by Michael Holden). Five old lads, all aged around 60, came in from the golf course and sat beside me. I presume the events described below took place in some dorm situation or some other occasion where a group of men would have access to each other’s clothes.

Man 5 (sitting closest to me): Tell the story about the socks.

Man 1 (furthest away): Socks?

Man 5: You know, the dye.

Man 1 (realising the reference): Oh, yer man in Athlone? Well, I started noticing my socks were disappearing. I’d think I had a pair, but when I’d go to get them they’d be gone. So, in the end I said enough is enough, and I got hold of this dye and put it into them.

Man 3: What do you mean “dye”?

Man 4: You know, that Strontium-Aluminate stuff, or whatever it’s called. For money and that.

Man 1: Yeah. Well, this fella came back from a dance one night, and he must have been sweating – with the dancing all, ‘cause the dye had sort of reacted with the sweat and had gone all the way up his legs. I didn’t want to say anything then ‘cause I knew it would be more than one day or two before it came off.

They giggled at the scenario and continued to discuss the merits and properties of Strontium-Aluminate in situations other than misappropriation of socks. Shortly afterwards, the man with the socks returned to the subject of the would-be thief.

Man 1: This same lad, he was a bit innocent, really. One time, he was taking this bird out for a walk [I’m guessing this is a euphemism], and he showed me a photo of the two of them together. I took a look at the photo and says to him: “Jasus, is that my jacket?”