Monday, April 15, 2002



Hello! Or as they say in Japan, Konnichiwa!

In a shocking incident last Friday evening, Miss Fianait Ni Gallachorarara (?) insulted the esteemed editor of this publication, Miss Lucy 'Lovely' Aughney. 'I am extremely disappointed at her standard of spoken English', stated Miss Ni Galachaaha. 'From her famed newsletters i always though her well spoken and eloquent but upon meeting her in person, i find her uncouth, foul mouthed and ignorant.'

Miss Ni Galllaghcoir also called into question the legitimacy of Miss Aughney's authorship of this newsletter, saying she doubted miss Aughney's capability to read, let alone write. She suggested Lucy Aughney was used by a sinister mind as a glamorous front to an unknown person's mind warping ramblings.

Miss Ni Gillacuddy said her suspicion was first aroused when Miss Aughney referred to a paperback novel for the meaning of a word she intended to use in her next newsletter. 'Its total fraud' complained miss Galapagos. 'I always assumed she knew those words, but she told us she finds big words in books and then looks up the meanings after! She's not clever at all!'

In response to these allegations, Miss Aughney said: 'Does she think im f**king Shakespeare or something? Who the f**k knows what those f**king words mean without looking them up? Who's she to talk about being F**king clever anyway- f**king primary teachers, think they know everything!'

One who declined comment however, was Miss Grainne Walsh who witnessed the exchange between the two ladies. When asked about her views on the matter she pointed out somewhat obscurely, 'Lucy bit me in second class y'know. In the line after break. It hurt.' All other attempts to contact Miss Walsh have been marred by her being in a permanent alcohol induced stupor.

We await further revelations on this issue.


Lucy- I have a stalker you could borrow; for a reasonable rent of course.
Jenny Kiely, Car- driver.
Luceeee, i never get any emails, i have no friends- send me some pleeeeease!
Marie Connolly, deprived child.
I've got new runners with shiny stripes on, i do.
Annie Mullen, odd girl
The 8.45 bus to Waterford has left Georges Quay. Be more promt in future.
Rapid Express Office, assholes.


'Myoclonic Jerk'
The unusual feeling of falling in the state before sleep, accompanied by sudden awakening.


Having only recently rid myself of the partial deafness of my left ear, which was the unwelcome and unusual residue of my departed head cold, I have now gladly acquired a aching shoulder and strained wrist. This pleases me greatly as I earned it during a gymnastic exercise on Monday night (last) when I fell over showing my flat mates how good i've gotten at cartwheels. Landing on the nearby coffee table, the ensuing pain required me to fashion a sling from a scarf and moan softly for the remainder of the evening.

It gives me great pride to remark on it, my first athletic injury, and speak of it often as 'an injury sustained during training'. The girls are behaving less than sympathetically though- Ann Marie rolled her eyes when i suggested i seek physiotherapy as part of my re- cooperation, and Janine refused point blank to write out my essays for me.

Janine refused to take me to the doctor either, even when my injury lingered till Thursday.

'But Janine,' I moaned ' what if i am permanently damaged and have to retire from the game? What a loss it would be to the world and Ireland in particular if i could not represent my country in the next Olympics!'

Janine was stern and unyielding, and particularly cruel when she pointed out i had probably aggravated it my sleeping on the floor for the last three nights. This, although true, was entirely unjustified and a low blow in my book. I had told her I was only sleeping on the floor to make sleeping an unattractive activity and hopefully lever me out of bed in the morning. It had, admittedly, failed as i had remained, sound asleep and snoring till 11am on the floor under my desk, but i still find her cruelty unwarrented and harsh.


What a blinder last tuesday was! The best yet, I feel and especially nice as it was observed in close quarters by about twenty people who actually know me. I was going, for the first time in many weeks, to my weekly ElS Creative writing meeting at 6pm last Tuesday. It being a few minutes past six, i was relived to find the door still open and stalked in smiling broadly, and hurried to bring a chair up to join the others at the table.
Who, oddly enough, were staring at me in wonder.

'Eh' came a voice from the head of the table. 'Theres no Creative Writing tonight- were just here to have a committee meeting'

Ah yes, said Lucy. Bumbling out of the room i whispered apologies to all and raced down the corridor, near tears. For many moments after i stomped round the empty halls of the Arts block, smacking myself repeatedly on the forehead. Dumb dumb dumb. Many of you may not recognise the humiliation in this incident, but doubt me not it is there. **********DID*YOU*KNOW?***********

The item of clothing 'apron' was originally called 'napron' until the word evolved over the years into its more easily pronnouncable form.
Thus, 'a napron' became 'an apron'.


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