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What an arse!
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Niall Stokes opens his column in the current issue of HotPress with the line;
"On the way home recently I had to drop into a small supermarket for a carton of yoghurt that was needed to make a Tsatsiki."
What a fucking arse!
That has to win first prize for the 'Arse-iest', most Middle Class piece of bullshit I've ever heard (or read) in my entire life!
It's far from Tsatsiki you were reared, you bollocks!
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-- igor
02/05/12 at 06:49
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 From :
Maedhbh
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Posted : 02/05/12 at 10:10 |
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| IGOR! Yay!
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From :
evil_giraffe
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Posted : 02/05/12 at 10:32 |
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| Yeah, I missed Igor too.
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From :
evil_giraffe
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Posted : 02/05/12 at 11:30 |
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The Phoenix compile these every fortnight under the heading “The Hot Air Brigade”. Mostly just John Waters and Fintan O’Toole. Here’s this issue:
“For us, it’s about going into Fallon and Byrne and knowing what cheese to buy, and what wine goes with it. It’s about practical and academic skills.”
James English, co-founder of men-only club The Gentlemen’s Academy, IrishTimes (submitted by reader)
The Barbadian superstar says she has ploughed the memory into the deepest recesses of her subconscious. She told Xpose’s Karen Koster last night: “Actually every time I think of Ireland, I somehow never go back to the farm… I go straight past the farm to Guinness in the pub.”
Rihanna on her run-in with farmer Alan Graham, Daily Mail
“In a way, I think we’ve reinvented the bus.”
Paddy Matthews, managing director of Matthews Coach Hire, Sunday Business Post
“I have known Ronan and Yvonne for over a decade -- been on private jets and yachts with them all over the world. They are both lovely, lovely people. I bumped into them just after Christmas in Starbucks in Malahide with their children and they seemed for all the world like they made it work again. Alas, that seemed as ephemeral as the froth on the cappuccino that day.”
Barry Egan, Sunday Independent (submitted by reader)
In winter, I mostly don’t shave my legs or under arm hair, laziness mostly, but also the extra layer of fluff provides a definite cosiness in the cold weather.
Roisin Ingle, Irish Times (submitted by reader)
“He is set to make millions from the Westlife farewell tour. They have sold out two dates at Croke Park -- that alone is huge -- and then he will make millions from the solo career too.”
Louis Walsh on Shane Filan, Irish Independent
Snooker player Ken Doherty has revealed a hitherto unknown interest in art… The 42-yearold can be seen extolling the merits of Italian master Caravaggio’s canvas ‘The Taking Of Christ’ in a future episide of RTE arts programme ‘The Works’.
Irish Independent
It induces not boredom but the feeling of entering a twilight zone occupied by the ghosts of those who have never actually lived, the memories of things that never happened, the vestiges of nonevents.
Fintan O’Toole on the work of artist Cindy Sherman, Irish Times
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From :
tricky
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Posted : 02/05/12 at 12:23 |
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well obviously Pseuds Corner is the lineage for the phoenix bit.
I remember someone else laughing about the fact that there was once an exclamation of frustration in their house about the absence of avocadoes to make guacamole.
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From :
igor
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Posted : 02/05/12 at 13:27 |
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| That has to be the arse-iest statement ever made since Arsey McArsey-trousers announced that he and his fiance Sorcha were engagng the services of Franc the Wedding Planner to arrange their wedding based on a recommendation by Sorcha's Mum's friend Fionnoula (who she attends Aqua Areobics with on Tuesdays & Thursdays) whose daughter Cliodhna and her husband Fergus couldn't speak highly enough about the wonderful job Franc had did planning their wedding in The Ardilaun last year.
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From :
Maedhbh
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Posted : 02/05/12 at 14:20 |
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I've a sister Cliodhna.
www.whitewhine.com Igor.
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From :
skennedy
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Posted : 02/05/12 at 14:50 |
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| What is Tsatsiki? Serious question. (And, yes, I'm too lazy to Google it.)
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From :
Maedhbh
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Posted : 02/05/12 at 14:53 |
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| Tzatziki or tzadziki(Greek: τζατζίκι [dzaˈdzici] or [dʒaˈdʒici]; Turkish: cacık [dʒaˈdʒɯk]; English pronunciation: /zæˈdziːkiː/ Albanian: xaxiq), Persian ماست و خیار, is a Greek and Turkish meze or appetizer, also used as a sauce for souvlaki and gyros. Tzatziki is made of strained yoghurt (usually from sheep or goat milk) mixed with cucumbers, garlic, salt, usually olive oil, pepper, sometimes lemon juice, and dill or mint or parsley.[1] Tzatziki is always served cold. While in Greece and Turkey the dish is usually served as an accompaniment, in other places tzatziki is often served with bread (loaf or pita) as part of the first course of a meal
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From :
Daedalus
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Posted : 02/05/12 at 14:59 |
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| Now that I drink coffee that I am told is good I have become snobby about it and if somebody intends on making me coffee from a red maxwell house jar I am outraged.
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From :
igor
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Posted : 04/05/12 at 12:18 |
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Coffee?
COFFEE??
I'll tell ya about fuckin coffe, so I will... the only ones that drink coffee are the fuckin QUEEEAAAARRRS! Heh heh heh heh!
It's far from coffee I was reared. NOBODY drank coffee in good old Catholic Ireland back in the '70s. Well, maybe a few of them "hippy-dippy" free-thinking liberal types "up in Dublin" did, but no God-fearin' patriotic Irish people did!
We were reared on tea...
Tea for breakfast!
Tea for dinner!
Tea for... er... tea!
...and before ya went to bed at night, a big mug-ah-tay!
Irish tea back in those days ALWAYS had way too much milk and sugar. It was a meal in itself. As me Granny´d say, "There's atin' and drinkin' in that!" (Jaysus, she taked some shite my Granny - Must be where I got it from!!)
I remember one time, many years aftter I'd "flown the nest" (and went to college "above in Galway") coming home for a weekend. My mother offered me a cup of tea. I declined and asked whether there was any coffee.
The house fell silent!
It was like a scene from one of those old Western movies when a stranger walks into the saloon and everyone (including the piano player with the bowler hat and the handlebar moustache) stops dead and stares at the newcomer...
After what seemed like an eternity, the whole house erupted into chaos! My father sneered "Oh, coffee is it now? Is that what they're drinkin' above in Galway, hah?". My brother started going, "Ooh, look at me! I'm a big shot now... drinking coffee! Oooh, pass me the coffee please Pater!". My sister started crying! My poor old grandmother fell to her knees and started saying The Rosary! The dog started going mental. The woman from next door (who had called in for a cup of tea) started wringing her hands and saying, "...and he used to be such a lovely young lad!". The Parish Priest (who had called in for a cup of tea) was comforting my Mother who had just turned the colour of death and was rooted to the spot!
It was pande-fucking-monium!
Needless to say, I wasn't welcome in that house from that day on. The shame it brought to my family can still be felt in the local area to this very day.....
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From :
number10
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Posted : 04/05/12 at 13:02 |
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| You're in topping form, Igor! Excellent stuff. You musta had a good breakfast this morning - with lots of yoghurt of course. Or are you a big Irish fry man? Can't get through the morning without a bit of pigs blood in ya? Great to see you here either way!
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From :
tricky
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Posted : 04/05/12 at 14:28 |
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| I keep thinking this might be about Rihanna.
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From :
igor
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Posted : 04/05/12 at 14:36 |
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| Who's he?
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From :
igor
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Posted : 04/05/12 at 15:26 |
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| As are you my friend... As are you.
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From :
igor
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Posted : 04/05/12 at 15:27 |
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| What an arse!
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From :
skennedy
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Posted : 04/05/12 at 15:46 |
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"On the way home recently I had to drop into a small supermarket for a carton of yoghurt that I needed to rub into Rihanna."
Now that's what I call journalism. Grab the reader's attention from the get-go.
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From :
Maedhbh
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Posted : 04/05/12 at 16:21 |
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| Ha oh Evil, oh Igor! Splendid
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From :
igor
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Posted : 15/05/12 at 14:53 |
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"On the way home recently I had to drop into a well known discount supermarket for a couple of bottles of cheap wine that I needed to dull the pain of my pointless and tortuous existence."
Now that's what I call alcoholism.... I'm so alone!
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From :
bigtom
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Posted : 15/05/12 at 16:29 |
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| "Hello, Mr. Stokes. I just want you to know that I worked in that small super-market, and I... oh, never-mind. Do you know Elvis Presley?"
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