15/12/2004

***THE*LUCY*AUGHNEY*NEWSLETTER***

The greatest gift theyll get this year is Lurrrve

Feed the World, Band Aid

Unlike starving people in Africa, you lucky readers are receiving the greatest gift of all this Christmas- Yes! That's right! A special seasonal edition of my newsletter! You lucky devils!

**Christmas Gift Ideas**

Many people have asked me; 'Lucy what can i get my nearest and dearest this Christmas?!' And i would like to tell you all now that a subscription to this very publication would be an extremely wise choice. For just €29.99 your favoured one can receive this very newsletter whenever it is published! Unfortunately, the likeliness of the esteemed editor finding the time to actually write anything is slim as she is currently concluding her course of study at that esteemed institution, University College Dublin, and will soon be on the lookout for a job, a husband, and a little house to settle down in. But hey, its being part of the gang that matters, right?

The editor would like to point out that she would be very receptive to anyone offering her a job, a house or a husband as Christmas gifts. Nicely wrapped, naturally.

**Return of the King**

Ah, tis that time of year again, the time when we can all celebrate the magic of Christmas by viewing the latest installment of J.R.R. Tolkien's masterpiece, The Lord of the Rings. This year, if you have been in a coma since August, the thrilling conclusion to the triply- thrilling trilogy is being released, The Return of the King. The date for this theatrical debut is Dec 17, which the attentive amongst you may recall is the same day as St Patricks Day. Except its in December. And if you cant celebrate Christmas by watching a film glorifying violence and powerful black magic, featuring the schizophrenic Gollum/ Smeagol, the cross- dressing princess Eowyn and the wedding of King Aragorn and his 800- odd year old bride, Arwen(oops! Plot spoilers!); well, then what kind of person ARE you???!!

**Retraction**

I cant think about anything else festive to write about anymore, im not a very christmassy person. Im just going to do what I do best; bitch about stuff. Is that ok?

**Lucy Fucks Up**

There is an old phrase that says 'pride comes before a fall' but I have found through detailed and painstaking (read: painful) research that in fact, large unseen objects and slippy or uneven road surfaces are a lot more likely to cause a topple. In a whopping 99% of cases fallees suffered a fall due to causes other than the awkward appearance of pride. ( The 1% refers to an unfortunate incident involving a group of lions.) In my case however, statistics go out the window. Because the single greatest cause of my downfall this year has been... stairs. Try as I might, I just cant seem to maneuver these tricky bastards.

16.37 on December 15th 2003 is a case in point. Frolicking joyfully through the college on the completion of my English essay I decided to pay a visit to the library to return the six fearsome books that have been haunting my desk and nightmares for the last month. Having dropped off my books at the returns desk, I fancied a meander through the fiction shelves to pleasure my terribly intellectual and fiercely misunderstood side. With the delight reminiscent of Mr. Mandela being released from prison, I sprung happily up the escalator, which I would like to point out in advance is constructed of malevolently uneven steps. I think we can all see where this is going. But for the slow amongst you(Hi Marie!), i'll spell it out; I fell over. And not just over. Down. And over.

Hoping to evince some sympathy from my fellow passengers on the ESCALATOR OF HELL I let out a storm of curses and then a bashful giggle. No response. 'Shut up you stupid culchie and stop falling over' their cruel D4 eyes said. And so I spent the next ten minutes wandering through the shelves slapping my head. I'll have to stick around up here till the librarians change shifts; I dont want them to think i'm uncool. Oh dear god, I must have hit my head in that fall.

Im worried that LIBRARIANS will think IM UNCOOL!!!

**Sidekick**

But I cant find no place or nothin' where thrills are cheap and love is divine.

Dusty, Kings of Leon

Seriously, I need a sidekick. Since the departure of my loyal companion Ms Marie Connolly from UCD (through no fault of her own, may I point out; the glandular fever she had in sixth year in lingering terribly long) I have felt increasingly alone. Without Marie around there is no one to talk to, no one to share my deepest thoughts and fears with, no one to tidy up after me. Instead, I am forced to wander the pathways of life alone, righting wrongs as I find them. If you have read this far you will now be wondering what the fuck I am talking about. What relevance does that quote at the top have? What are we doing here?!! Nothing, my friend, nothing at all. Ah, the wearisome emptiness of life.

**Making the world a better place one UCD student at a time**

Much Madness is divinest sense
To a discerning eye
Much sense the starkest Madness
Tis the majority
In this, as all, prevails.
Assent and you are Sane:
Demur,- You're straightaway dangerous
And handled with a Chain
Emily Dickinson

Due to the situation and reputation of my college I am forced to come into contact with a load of assholes on numerous occasions. Now I sound like a gay male prostitute or a colonic irrigation practitioner but I was in fact speaking metaphorically. A great number of these cerebrally challenged people are in my English tutorial. I think I was placed in their midst to give a good example. The first tutorial of the year was particularly excruciating. Not content with giving me an English tutor whose first language is Italian and is so bizarre she would shine at Hogwarts (School of Witchcraft and Wizardry people, get on board!), the English dept. thought it would be excellent fun if we all introduced ourselves and explained our love of the English language.

No, seriously.

After the rest of the group got finished explaining their devotion to literature and more than one asshole had admitted to knocking off the odd poem independently, Wanda (pronounced 'Vanda') got around to me. 'Yes?' she burbled.

A pause. 'My name's Lucy' I said. At this point I was unwilling to give much away.

Sensing she had a difficult customer on her hands, she prompted; 'And what do you love?'

Trying to atone for my bad manners, I attempted to lighten the mood. 'Well, obviously I love talking about myself!' I said with a wry smile.

Did anyone ever tell you that irony doesn't work on foreigners? Doesn't work on UCD English students either. Maybe its because they are so self consciously ironic already. The entire room continued to stare stonily at me while Wanda nodded encouragingly.

'Never mind' I muttered as she moved on to the JYA student to my right. And that, my friends, will teach you never to try to be funny when there's a UCD student around. They just don't get funny.

13/05/2004

***THE*LUCY*AUGHNEY*NEWSLETTER***

*News in brief!*

*Mags O'Neill sprains ankle! Considered out of the running to represent Ireland in the next Olympics!
*Marie Connolly announces that if she fails her exams, it will be 'all my own fault'. As opposed to all Lucy's fault because she only manged to get you out of the bed for half of your lectures all year!
*Editor's sister reveals intended outfit for disco! Editor declares 'Youre not going out like that!' Editor's sister responds with 'Fuck off back up to Dublin!' Turbulant times ahead.
*Lucy declares intention to study! Doesnt happen!
*Other stuff happens! Nobody cares cos its not mentioned in Lucy's newsletter!

**Quoth the raven; 'Never More'**

As of 5.32pm this afternoon I am no longer a second year student at University College Dublin. Now, I am a third year.Yes, my friends i am finished forever. Well, except for next year, but as Johnny Logan himself says; whats another year? My final exam was a bit of a moment of insanity (more like three hours of insanity), not particularly helped by a last minute chat with my good bud Meabh about the exam in question;

MEABH: Yeah, im glad i prepared those two back up topics anyway.
LUCY: Back up? Topics? Prepare? I think ive lost you.

The mood was considerably lightened when halfway though some wanker broke his chair and fell off. How we laughed. I laughed a little too long and a little too maelevolently though, i fear. In fact, i am still laughing. Har har.

Now that I am back in the land of the little people, ie. Youse (as they say in Wexford), i am planning to purchase for myself a thesaurus to supplement my word power. The following words have become somewhat overused in my exams.

Political Recognise Trend Accordingly
Social Centralise Development MonetarilyReligious Urbanize Consequentially SubsequentlyEconomic Modernize Paradoxically Realise Socialize Obstensibly and Celibite

Also, have just noticed that I cant spell. Fuck that. I have just worked out that i have written eighteen essays over the last two weeks. Fucking hell, im clever.

**What*would*Dr*Forlano*do?

For all of those of you who are weak of mind (that would be all of you), I have been on the look out for a role model for you to aspire to, when I am not around. I have found that person in the manly frame of Dr.Luke Forlano, Surgical consult. at All Saints hospital. Now, All Saints is a programme on TV3 which just happens to be the greatest thing in the world (All Saints, not TV3).

Do not be alarmed when i tell you it is set in Austrailia- Austrialians have feelings too you know. Dr Forlano is a particurlarly stress prone individual. He is forever getting grief from the older surgeons who think hes not up to the job. His intense view of life is obvious as he stalks up and down the corridors of ward 17, wearing coloured shirts and no tie. Ties are for old men. Also he has a red sports car, a brother in jail AND an earing. COOL or what.

Challenge: Your mother asks you what you intend doing for the rest of your life if you dont intend to do a postgrad. Mother is annoyingly persistant in her questioning.
Dr Forlano's Solution: Order a complete set of a labs, a CAT scan, call psych. and test her urine for drugs. This woman is not well.

Challenge: Your father wonders how you could possibly have spent all your money already, since there is no chance youre going out drinking during your exams. Is there?
Dr Forlano's Solution: This man is gone into arrest, get the crash cart in here! Shock him repeatedly until you regain normal cardiac rythyms. Or not.

Challenge: Your exams are over and youre dead bored cos no one elses are.
Dr Forlano's Solution: Have a tempestuous love affair with a fiesty nurse. Break up cos youre too scared to commit. Experience unrequeited love for another nurse. Reconsider life options.

Oops, Dr Forlano let us down on that last one! Well, his name is Martin in real life, were all human.

**Lucy*Fucks*Up*

It was one of those days. First, the ATM wouldnt give me any money so i had to beat up an old lady to get some. Then I lost Marie in the supermarket and had to put her in the little seat in the fornt of the trolley so she wouldnt run off again. And then, just when the good looking and tall for his age scout packing bags at the checkout handed me my shopping, didnt I knock over his little plastic bucket where he was collecting for tents or a new leg for a child or something.

'Whoa!' he said with a laugh. 'Youre trying to do a runner with our cash, are ya?'
'Ha ha!' I laughed weakly. And then I did run away. Weeping. And slapping my head in a vaguely concussive manner.

**Word*Of*The*Day**

'Study'
The process of learning about a subject by reading, thought, intuition or research. No, I dont get it either.

**Non-patriotic*peoples**

Last Sunday Ms Claire King had the AUDACITY to speak at length about her voyages abroad this coming summer. Oh, i pretended to be interested but all I could think was the cheek, the brazenness, the cockiness of this non- patriotic person. I have tried and tried but i cannot come to terms with those disgusting layabouts who think they can just head off on a trip abroad whenever the mood takes them. And to make matters worse, they are nearly all of them poxy students! What is wrong with our fair Isle that you must leave it whenever you get a few weeks off school? What is lacking in our picturesque hometown of Tramore (by-the-sea) that you must look for satisfaction elsewhere? Nothing, I tell you! I am proud to be Irish and will stay that way, at least until after the Eurovision on Saturday!

**Open*Invitation**

I am officially inviting all of you lovely people to a major fiesta in my lovely Dublin abode this coming Thursday. Please come. No, seriously, come. The two Claires we live with have invited about 15million people and I have invited ...none. Oh, you cant expect much from Marie, she doesnt have any friends anyway, but me? I was so desperate today i nearly asked my invigilator; 'Can i have another rough work page and would you like to go to a party on Thursday?'

So, if any of ye are in the area on Thursday (or even in the country), drop into 121 Merrion Grove, Stillorgan rd, Dublin 4 for a drink and a quick mention to the girls we live with that we are really cool. (see the 4 at the end of my address? Thats cool, that is.)

26/03/2004

***THE*LUCY*AUGHNEY*NEWSLETTER***

See the new fonts I employ from time to time? See, here I have capitilised all the letters in the heading which I feel is very innovative and original. Innovation does not come for free however. And you wondered what you were paying for! (Im paying for this crap? you say)

Many people have approached me with the same whiny question on their lips: 'When are your writing your next newsletter, Lucy?'
'When Im good and ready dickhead!' I reply, sweeping my simpering inquisitor from my path with a vicious kick.

And so I must admit, I have been biding my time so as to make my eventual return all the more triumphant and glorious.

So here it is, glory in an email. And you thought that Simpsons one was good...

**Letters*to*the*editor**

Superheros cant be doctors.
Marie Connolly in a direct statement that will surely be contradicted by med student and soon to be superhero, Eavan McGovern

One day, on my way home from school, i felt a presence on the road beside me! A ghostly presence!
Pathetic Loser in my English class

I met Leo and were getting married!
Pathetic loser called Eavan McGovern

**Spectacular*Spectacular!**

Yes, the weekend just passed was that soon to be national holiday, Lucy's birthday. St Patricks day is just a cover, twas me who really got rid of the snakes from Ireland, you havent seen Celia in a while have you? Well, for all of you less adhesive friends who couldnt find the time to attend, it was the best night of my life! EVER! Even getting asked for ID repeatedly couldnt spoil my enjoyment of the evening. My mother telling me that I should stop drinking so much now I was 20 could though. Being older I can now appreciate the true quality of life, the gradual but continious slipping by of the days, the important things. And Im more mature. I coped surprisingly well with only recieving four birthday cards on Friday. I had stopped crying by Saturday.

**Romantic*encounters**

I wanna spread the news, that if feels this good getting used, oh you just keep on using me- until you use me up.
Use Me, Bill Withers

Increased security concerns at Edinburgh International Airport due to either the war in the Middle East or else just the presence of my family in the vicinity, security staff have become extra vigilint regarding the searching of outbound travellers. Which is the reason the metal detector lady gave me for the the brisk pat down she gave me last Wednesday. I didnt find it too upsetting but she was a wee bit flushed on completion. I attract admirers wherever i go.

**adventures*in*cyber*space**

'We don't want to conquer the cosmos, we simply want to extend the boundaries of earth to the frontiers of the cosmos.'
Solaris, Stanislaw Lem

The internet, i think we can all agree, was a pretty good invention of mine. It all started one wet afternoon in spring of '92 when there was nothing on the Den. Since then its come on in leaps and bounds and im pretty damn proud of it I can tell you. I am very glad to announce that Mr Tomas Breen with an address in Limerick (!) has been so good to allow little old me on to his smashing website. I havent recieved any information regarding my commission yet, but im sure its in the post (as are all my brithday cards i expect). Please do spare a moment from you busy day and attend, the thrilling shot of Donna's eyebrow is worth the trip alone.

**Ken*Smith*sighting!!**

The usually casually dressed Mr Ken Smith was spotted in HMV Grafton st a few weeks ago wearing something that looked suspiciously like a suit. Struck dumb and physicaly stunned by his appearance, our intrepid reporter failed to persue him out of the shop but upon later application Ms Grainne Walsh explained that Mr Smith is in town on business. I think we can safely draw from this that Ken was in our nation's fine capital checking up on his drug and whoring interests. Either that or a court date. He is from Limerick after all. This information has been confirmed by the fact that Mr Smith was hovering with an unnerving concentration over the Charlotte Church rack. Evil!

**Marie*Fucks*Up**
Marie is a f**king loon. Seriously. What follows is a complete transcrpit of a conversation I had with her on Sunday night, following my viewing of Spiderman. Really.

LUCY: Right, I have a question for ya.
MARIE: Right.
LUCY: Ok, what superhero would you most like to be- Superman, Batman, Spiderman or the incredible Hulk.
MARIE:Ew. Superman.
LUCY: What?! Why?! Superman is f**king gay!
MARIE: You say that to Lois Lane then.
LUCY: Hmm, ok- what power- if you were Spiderman now- what power would you most like-
MARIE: Errr...
LUCY: Right- Spidey sense of danger, Super human strength, lightening fast reflexes, web- slinging action or ability to climb up buildings.
MARIE: Oh. The reflex one.
LUCY: What? Why would you want that, that sucks.
MARIE: Well, what would you pick then?
LUCY: Hello, ability to climb up walls! Of course!
MARIE: Why, 'of course'?
LUCY: Cos its the f**king coolest of course, loser! Are you mental?! Why would you want the reflex one?
MARIE: So you could catch stuff if they fell over, like.
LUCY: ...? Right, heres one more- Who was the coolest Batman; Micheal Keaton, Val Kilmer or George Clooney?
MARIE: Val Kilmer
LUCY: -WHAT! Did you not hear me say 'George Clooney'???!!
MARIE: Yeh, so I like Val Kilmer, hes sexy.
LUCY: F**KING GEORGE CLOONEY WOMAN!
MARIE: Yeh, so, he was in ER like- a doctor cant be Batman.
LUCY: YOU F**KING LOON!
MARIE: Shut up.
LUCY: You shut up.

**Lucy*has*weird*dream*about*killing*spree!**

Dont really know what this means but if dreams actually do predict the future, you all might want to start saving so that ye can all club togetherto post my bail. (except those of you I intend killing of course...)

09/01/2003

***THE*LUCY*AUGHNEY*NEWSLETTER***

I have just been visited by Dr Suess' Cat in the hat. Well, thats what it called itself anyway. It kinda looked like a load of astericks but I wouldnt be an expert on cats or their apparal. Allegedly if I send it on to everyone in my address book my wish will come true.

I was going to do just that but two things stopped me. The first was the undoubtable wave of hatred that would be directed towards me if I sent that lovely little piece of mail on to a load of people (smile; it was almost you) and the second is that I could not think of a wish. Am I completely happy, I hear you cry. And i'd have to answer; yes. Look at everything I've got going for me! Physical advanatges aside, I'm a lucky chica.

I mean I get to live three of the lovliest girls in the world, and one of them is my best bud Marie who sleeps two feet away from me! How lucky can you be? And the four of us always do fun stuff together- for example, last night we had a great game of 'robbing-Lucy's-bedsheets-and-hiding-them'. No you cant get it from Hasbro, we made it up ourselves. And then, when the fun of that was over we had a quick game of 'bouncy-castle-on-Lucy's-bed-while-shes-in- it'. Oh, i really love that one.

Just when you think you might be getting bored and want to go to sleep, we all have a fun two hour conversation till well into the wee hours of the morning about absolutely nothing! Its mad! I was a bit of a dry shite last night though; i must confess. I kept wanting to go to sleep and end the games before they were properly over.

Boring old me!

*Lucy*fucks*up*

Today was going grand, i was helping doing stock taking at work in the bookshop and, ok, i was after fucking up a whole set of calculations and we had to start again but hey! it was fun! The problems started when Anthony came over to help me fix my calculater when i'd dropped it on the
floor.
'So, are you, like in college?' he said, passing the time.
'Yep' i replied eagerly. 'I'm doing arts in UCD. English and History.'
'Roight' he said (hes a bit posh) 'Oh, James Joyce!'
'Ah no actually' I said and went on to explain that we had down Joyce last year but I hadnt like him that much. I then gave him a critical breakdown of Joyce's 'Dubliners', finishing by saying I had thought 'Portrait of the artist' was a filthy book and hadnt read the ending out of disgust.

'Roight' he said again, looking bewildered 'I just meant he went there, didnt he?'

I hate people like me.

*Beauty*corner*

The heading 'beauty corner' is very untrue as beauty does not occupy only a corner of my life but all of it. In the words of a better man than I (since I am not a man at all), 'Beauty is truth, truth beauty'. Ahhh.

This week I have been enjoying the benefits of a box of dye which has altered my hair colour to 'deepish darkish brown' or something of the like. I am now a glossy, raven haired beauty, as many people have told me. I was somewhat at odds over the comments i got last saturday night. One acquaintence responded to me shaking my glossy mane with; 'Wow you look like Arwen from Lord of the Rings'.
This i liked, very much. I did not appreciate another comment that went 'your hair smells like a swimming pool'. That i was a little perturbed by.

*word*of*the*day*
'dearth'
A scarcity or lack of something
eg: There is sad dearth of intelligent life in my household.

*How*to*Look*stupid*without*really*trying*

It is a very valauble skill to be able to appear stupid when one feels like it. Not only the obvious pity and money you will acquire from looking stupid (everyone feels sorry for stupid people), you can also avoid lenghty jail sentences when a jury thinks you too dumb looking to be able to plan and carry out multiple crimes of a devious and brilliant nature.

Unfortunately, since I am obviously a highly intelligent person and know nothing at all about looking stupid, I had to delagate the writing of this piece to Marie. She is unfortunately unavailable tonight, so you shall all have to figure out how to look stupid on your own. I'm sure you can manage it.

04/01/2004

***THE*LUCY*AUGHNEY*NEWSLETTER***

Well, the new year is upon us and I am heading back to school with a tranquil mind after three weeks peaceful sojurn in lovely Tramore. During the Christmas holidays I spent many afternoon reading, staring out to sea and pondering the direction of my life. Not for me, the pointless cylcle of drinking and dancing that my lesser human beings preferred. I instead stayed in and nurtured my reclusive tendencies. Even my family claim I've become distant. Thankfully, they added. I have also discovered my feminine side. It is my left one.

As you can see, my sense of humour has become very advanced over the holidays. I do not expect any of YOU to understand it, dear readers, and much of what I say may go over your heads. Try to keep up.

*The*evil*and*worrying*power*of*technolgy*

If youve lost your faith in love and music, oh the end wont be long!

'Vertigo', The Libertines

I am very disappointed to note that technology has become an evil and alienating force. Technological apliances have become malevolent and obstinate, cruelly requiring an impossible knowledge of their workings before functioning. Pour example: I recently purchased a snazzy looking cd discman. I was very proud of said discman on bus on the way home except I kept calling it a walkman and my sister had to point out that it a walkman was for tapes, and anyway tapes dont exist anymore do they? They do, i replied indignantly. (Do they?)

Imagine my horror and dismay when upon arriving at home and inserting batteries into it, it refused to work! Disappointed but not broken i resolved to return to Argos and demand exchange at earliest possible moment. Earliest possible moment turned out to be, unfortunately, the first day of the sales and was forced to queue for an hour and a half waiting for cd player. Also my companions were forced to wait with me. These companions included roommate Clare who was a little peeved to be spending only afternoon in Waterford queueing in Argos; also young gentleman Joshua Kirby who was surprisingly content to sit in Argos for so long. His mother however was not. I am sorry to say that the usually dignified Lynne Kirby and her friend Ruth Finnerty were extremly rude and impatient. I am shocked at Lynne in particular- she is usually so quiet and poite.

I am embarrassed to recount the events after this. In short I was sitting at home, disgusted that the replacment cd player wasnt working either and complaining to all that would listen that technology was an awful con, when my sister's friend leaned over and pointed out that I had to turn it on for it to work. Ah, said I. Why dont they tell you that?

**Happy*new*year!**
You aint no friend of mine, you aint no kin of mine- what makes you think I wont run up on you with a knife?
'Wanksta', 50 cent

While many of you might have been out pouring money into the bulging tills of unscrupulous publicans this New Years, i chose to remain at home and get drunk alone. At ten past twelve I looked at my watch and realised- oh!- had missed midnight. Was i heartbroken? Of course not. Instead I watched Britney: Live in Vegas and sniggered to myslef when I spotted a pimple on her neck. My sister came in then and we agreed that it was bleeding. Ew. That Britney one is disgusting.

*word*of*the*day*

'Zephyr'
Soft or gentle breeze as seen in The Zephyr Song by Red Hot Chilli Peppers.

'Fly away on my zephyr, I need you more than ever, and in the perfect weather we'll find a place together'

*Marie*Fucks*up*

Actual conversation recorded in cinema on Thursday night last at viewing of The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers:

Marie: Why are they mad at this Gondor guy? Isnt he the one who got the king out of the spell? Lucy: Ahh... Gondor is a place. Its a big kingdom like.
Marie: Well, who's the guy with the white beard then?
Lucy: GanDALF.
Marie: ....?
Lucy: He was in the first film, dya remember? The wizard?
Marie: Well, what does the other wizard want off the small lads?
Lucy: Eh, Saruman dya mean? He thinks they have the ring.
Marie: And thats it?
Lucy: Eh... yes. The ring.
Marie: All for a ring? Why's he killing everyone for a RING?
Lucy: Well, its a magic ring you know. Do you even know what this film is called?

*How*to*look*clever*without*actually*becoming*clever*

The appearance of cleverness is not assigned solely to those lucky glasses wearing folk; you non- blind people can also attain an air of enviable intelligence just by employing a few simple methods. Though having a pair of glasses is always a boost to ones appearance of intelligence (As I tell Marie every morning as she puts her contacts in), it is very possible to look clever without them.
Squinting- The appearance of shortsightedness is always desirable, the perfect squint is an essential part of any clever persons disguise. To achieve this, narrow your eyes and lean forward slightly, peering closely at the object/text in question. If you are feeling a little bit under the weather, do not attempt the squint as you may squint a little too much and close your eyes fully, inducing a sleep, which is not a sign of cleverness.

Furrowing of Brow- This is pretty much an extention of the squint but if you persist at furrowing your brow for a few hours each day you will end up with deep permanent furrows in your forehead by age thirty, and lend you an air of painfully won intelleigence. Your mother was right about the wind changing.

Pursing of Lips- This action can be exchanged for the biting of the lower lip to achieve a pleasing expression of tense and nervous intelligence. The biting of the upper lip should be avoided as one's forehead adopts a worryingly simianlike appearance which is not a particularly attractive expression. Unless you want to look like a monkey.

Talking to oneself- this action is borderline and should not be attempted unless you are very sure of your clever reputation. Appearing intelligent should not be confused with looking odd, though it may seem that clever people are indeed odd. If you must talk to yourself, insure that topics of conversation is kept to literary or academic subjects- discussing the weather or the mating habits of ducks may be considered unusual. Insure that you monoploize the conversation, because if you start talking back to yourself or disagreeing loudly with yourself in public, you will have crossed the line most terribly.

04/01/2004

***THE*LUCY*AUGHNEY*NEWSLETTER***

Well, the new year is upon us and I am heading back to school with a tranquil mind after three weeks peaceful sojurn in lovely Tramore. During the Christmas holidays I spent many afternoon reading, staring out to sea and pondering the direction of my life. Not for me, the pointless cylcle of drinking and dancing that my lesser human beings preferred. I instead stayed in and nurtured my reclusive tendencies. Even my family claim I've become distant. Thankfully, they added. I have also discovered my feminine side. It is my left one.

As you can see, my sense of humour has become very advanced over the holidays. I do not expect any of YOU to understand it, dear readers, and much of what I say may go over your heads. Try to keep up.

*The*evil*and*worrying*power*of*technolgy*

If youve lost your faith in love and music, oh the end wont be long!

'Vertigo', The Libertines

I am very disappointed to note that technology has become an evil and alienating force. Technological apliances have become malevolent and obstinate, cruelly requiring an impossible knowledge of their workings before functioning. Pour example: I recently purchased a snazzy looking cd discman. I was very proud of said discman on bus on the way home except I kept calling it a walkman and my sister had to point out that it a walkman was for tapes, and anyway tapes dont exist anymore do they? They do, i replied indignantly. (Do they?)

Imagine my horror and dismay when upon arriving at home and inserting batteries into it, it refused to work! Disappointed but not broken i resolved to return to Argos and demand exchange at earliest possible moment. Earliest possible moment turned out to be, unfortunately, the first day of the sales and was forced to queue for an hour and a half waiting for cd player. Also my companions were forced to wait with me. These companions included roommate Clare who was a little peeved to be spending only afternoon in Waterford queueing in Argos; also young gentleman Joshua Kirby who was surprisingly content to sit in Argos for so long. His mother however was not. I am sorry to say that the usually dignified Lynne Kirby and her friend Ruth Finnerty were extremly rude and impatient. I am shocked at Lynne in particular- she is usually so quiet and poite.

I am embarrassed to recount the events after this. In short I was sitting at home, disgusted that the replacment cd player wasnt working either and complaining to all that would listen that technology was an awful con, when my sister's friend leaned over and pointed out that I had to turn it on for it to work. Ah, said I. Why dont they tell you that?

**Happy*new*year!**
You aint no friend of mine, you aint no kin of mine- what makes you think I wont run up on you with a knife?
'Wanksta', 50 cent

While many of you might have been out pouring money into the bulging tills of unscrupulous publicans this New Years, i chose to remain at home and get drunk alone. At ten past twelve I looked at my watch and realised- oh!- had missed midnight. Was i heartbroken? Of course not. Instead I watched Britney: Live in Vegas and sniggered to myslef when I spotted a pimple on her neck. My sister came in then and we agreed that it was bleeding. Ew. That Britney one is disgusting.

*word*of*the*day*

'Zephyr'
Soft or gentle breeze as seen in The Zephyr Song by Red Hot Chilli Peppers.

'Fly away on my zephyr, I need you more than ever, and in the perfect weather we'll find a place together'

*Marie*Fucks*up*

Actual conversation recorded in cinema on Thursday night last at viewing of The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers:

Marie: Why are they mad at this Gondor guy? Isnt he the one who got the king out of the spell? Lucy: Ahh... Gondor is a place. Its a big kingdom like.
Marie: Well, who's the guy with the white beard then?
Lucy: GanDALF.
Marie: ....?
Lucy: He was in the first film, dya remember? The wizard?
Marie: Well, what does the other wizard want off the small lads?
Lucy: Eh, Saruman dya mean? He thinks they have the ring.
Marie: And thats it?
Lucy: Eh... yes. The ring.
Marie: All for a ring? Why's he killing everyone for a RING?
Lucy: Well, its a magic ring you know. Do you even know what this film is called?

*How*to*look*clever*without*actually*becoming*clever*

The appearance of cleverness is not assigned solely to those lucky glasses wearing folk; you non- blind people can also attain an air of enviable intelligence just by employing a few simple methods. Though having a pair of glasses is always a boost to ones appearance of intelligence (As I tell Marie every morning as she puts her contacts in), it is very possible to look clever without them.
Squinting- The appearance of shortsightedness is always desirable, the perfect squint is an essential part of any clever persons disguise. To achieve this, narrow your eyes and lean forward slightly, peering closely at the object/text in question. If you are feeling a little bit under the weather, do not attempt the squint as you may squint a little too much and close your eyes fully, inducing a sleep, which is not a sign of cleverness.

Furrowing of Brow- This is pretty much an extention of the squint but if you persist at furrowing your brow for a few hours each day you will end up with deep permanent furrows in your forehead by age thirty, and lend you an air of painfully won intelleigence. Your mother was right about the wind changing.

Pursing of Lips- This action can be exchanged for the biting of the lower lip to achieve a pleasing expression of tense and nervous intelligence. The biting of the upper lip should be avoided as one's forehead adopts a worryingly simianlike appearance which is not a particularly attractive expression. Unless you want to look like a monkey.

Talking to oneself- this action is borderline and should not be attempted unless you are very sure of your clever reputation. Appearing intelligent should not be confused with looking odd, though it may seem that clever people are indeed odd. If you must talk to yourself, insure that topics of conversation is kept to literary or academic subjects- discussing the weather or the mating habits of ducks may be considered unusual. Insure that you monoploize the conversation, because if you start talking back to yourself or disagreeing loudly with yourself in public, you will have crossed the line most terribly.