*****LETTERS*TO*THE*EDITOR*******
Lucy, you are sad, very sad- perhaps you need a hobby?
- Aoife Horan, friend
Personaly I have never been kneed in the groin for wearing glasses.
- Tomas Breen, very-soon-to-be-kneed-in-groin-person.
Thank you for making my sad life interesting.
- Celia O'Meara, overdue praise- giver
Hope I get into the quotes for this one!
- Sarah Brennan, Waterford person
I need quotes people- these suck, i need them more obscure and bizarre!
**********ASK*AUNTIE*LUCY*********
Dear Auntie Lucy,
My accounting teacher is mad. She tests us on stuff we havent done yet. What should i do? Signed, J. Kiely
Dear J. Kiely,
Wha? Do you actually go in to lectures? Bizarre!
Dear Auntie Lucy,
Help me- hiccup!- im an alco.. alco.. aclo- hiccup!- heavy drinker! I get sloshed EVERY weekend, (oops, fell over!) Hiccup! Plzzzze help, cant find... er, cant.. cant remember what i was looking for..
Signed, A. Mullen
Dear A. Mullen,
First of all, excessive drinking is not cool. Its really really cool! Whats the problem? Go out and get yourself a drink girl!
Dear Auntie Lucy,
Being a poor, impovrished UCC student[Hah!- ed.], I have difficulties in finding enough money to eat. Can you recommend any techniques to find dinner cheaply and fast.
Signed, L. Kelleher
Dear L. Kelleher,
God would not have given us mammies and daddies if He did not want us calling them the whole time to beg for money! So cop on! Be a man! (not too manly though, you dont want to get known as the butch lesbien of the campus)
*******WORD*OF*THE*DAY********
'Mad Scone'
As coined by my pink haired roommate Joanne, this phrase is used to exclaim with affection upon the eccentricity and all- round insanity of a person of your acquaintence.
eg. Ah, ya mad scone ya! = my goodness, what a terrificly odd and bizarre wheaten bread product you are, upon my word!
******A*FUNNY*THING*HAPPENED*ON*THE*WAY*TO*ME*LECTURE*******
The incident i am about to relate to you in fact happened on the way from a lecture, not to (there is a fundamental difference there people, think on it).
I was in my History lecture on Monday morning, approx 11.45 am, and was heading back to bed for a few hours of rest, after a mad fifty minutes of trying to wink at my lecturer while he rambled on about the French Revolution (or some topic of the historical kind- i wasnt really paying attention).
I had gathered up my folders and stuff and making my way to the door, when once again, the energetic celtic goddess that is atavistic in me decided to leap for the doorway. The celtic goddess however, failed to notice the three steps between my person and the door and down I fell. But not just once. Twice. While struggling to get up I stepped on the vinyl cover of my folder and fell over again.
Imagine, if you will, my horror when the slightly amused tones of my lecturer came from immediately behind me.
'Hmmmmm...are you all right? ' he chuckled.
Not being a girl to miss a gilded opportunity i spun round and flashing my dental work at him, laughing 'ha ha, yah sure!'
He did not however, renounce his wife and pledge himself to me at that moment (though I expect it any day now) instead choosing to nod solemnly and step around me. Leaving me to face the snotty and condescending sniggers from the rest of the lecture hall on the stairs behind me. I rushed immediately to the library where I sobbed and relieved my bewildered heart over a copy of 'portrait of the artist' until lunchtime.
[Incidentaly, lunchtime comes early in UCD- usually any time between 9.00 and noon.]
************POETRY*CORNER***********
Those of you who attend to my schedule with care may have by now exclaimed- Hold on! its Tuesday evening, doesnt she normally go to creative writing on a tuesday??!!
Quite right my friend, but today i decided my sanity depended on my not going to creative writing. Anyway, I went to this mad talk on the Wild Geese by the History Society yesterday, so I figure thats enough extra- curricular activity for one week!
My good chum Donna pointed out that my juvenile writings were not constrained to God and spirituality (see : Cardboard box... in a field), that on occasion i toyed with advanced themes of life and death also. Unfortunately I cannot think of any of these poems, as much of the less than constructive critisism I recieved in national school has led me to block out those hurtful years.
Instead I reproduce here a clever little ditty which I penned a few years back- it is, I must point out, quite complex and difficult, so do not worry if you cannot understand it. You are just too stupid.
Hark, some lilies lie here!
What some ladies died here?
Pity such ladies died so!
Good, such lilies lie though.
Heartbreaking, isnt it?
Well, as the good poet Yeats says; I must arise and go now! And go to Inisfree! I too must arise and go now, not to Inisfree but to Merville where i must partake of some fine culinary snack (Rancheros)
Till next time (tomorrow prob, have no life to speak of)
Adios Amigo y amiga!
A bientot mes amies!
Slan go foill, Losers!
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