Better Living Through Cleanliness

Explodey

Oh, in case you were wondering how I died, I exploded, laying waste to the small university town of Maynooth. It's all gone now. All that's left is the bus stop.

posted by Adrian @ 4:55 PM 0 comments

Naked Brunch

span >Still in Hell I'm afraid. Adolf Hitler arrived a couple of hours after me. It turns out that due to some sort of clerical error he spent the last fifty-nine years in heaven. The Afterlife is basically a neverending buerocratic process, where souls are filed into different categories. Hitler's being a real assgoblin acutally. He used my toothbrush to clean his toilet and then put it back, and then told everybody else about it except me. I was able to nip out briefly yesterday, on the condition that I return with milk and jaffa cakes. The quare fella really likes jaffa cake for some strange reason. Anyhow, since everyone seems to be getting all nostalgic about 2004 already, here are some things that made my 2004 just that little bit more bearable:

Q. Are We Not Men by Devo
More Songs About Buildings And Food by Talking Heads
Parallel Lines by Blondie
The Earth Is Not A Cold Dead Place by Explosions In The Sky
Spiderland by Slint
Victorialand by Cocteau Twins
Young Team by Mogwai
Turn On The Bright Lights by Interpol
Source Tags & Codes by ...Trail Of Dead
The Man Machine by Kraftwerk
Love Life by Tychonaut (formerly the Tycho Brahe)
Pimp My Ride
Peep Show
Teachers
Naked Lunch by Burroughs
The Trial by Kafka
Short Stories by Poe

posted by Adrian @ 5:41 PM 3 comments

Adrian vs. Satan

I have succumed to several of those deadly sins, over the holiday period. Gluttony especially, also greed, sloth, and well basically all of them except pride. I've sold my eternal soul to satan. Hell's really not THAT bad. It would be downright tolerable if not for Princess Diana playing her Good Charlotte albums so bloody loud. Bitch!

posted by Adrian @ 4:04 PM 5 comments

On Average, 100 People Choke To Death On Ball-Point Pens Every Year

I had an interesting dream last night, in which I was at the end of a large table in the Queen Vic with of party of people, when a middle aged woman within the party began choking. And choked to death right there in front of me. This woman, which I really didn't know very well, had borrowed my phone earlier in the day to ring a friend. I felt obliged to phone this woman and tell her that I had just witnessed the death of her friend. When I actually got on to her, I found that I couldn't actually remember the name of the woman who had died, and spent much of the phonecall trying to describe her. Her friend couldn't imagine who I was talking about, and refused to believe me.

I later spent time with an old school friend that I had fallen out with years ago. In the dream we reconcile and spend a good deal of time talking in his house. This school friend was the adopted son of the woman who had died. The logic, which I accepted in the dream, was that he had been adopted at age sixteen. Anyhow, I finally bring up this woman's death. My friend, annoyed that I would bring this up, tells me that this kind of thing simply happens, and not to dwell on it. This was four days after the choking.

The idea of my reconciling with someone I haven't gotten on with for years, has appeared in a few dreams of mine recently. But the significance of the choking woman is a mystery. Despite having read this, I have absolutely no idea what any of my dreams are about, or how to interpret them.

I'm beginning to think that if you look at me straight on I look like a koala, what with the short hair and everything. Koalas are pretty cool, though, they can impersonate human fingerprints and stuff. If I could have my choice of any animal for a pet it would definitely be a koala. I'll stick with Sea Monkeys for now, though.

posted by Adrian @ 11:13 AM 0 comments

Although I've Never Been To Barber College...

I gave myself a haircut last night. A simple enough procedure when you own the appropriate razor. I decided to give myself a blade #4, and trim my sideburns with a #2. It's sad. I forgot to change blades, and am now stuck with a considerable tighter haircut than I actually wanted. My Dad is completely thrilled with this, by the way, and very emphatically began assuring me how nice I look, and what a good job I did. This is probably because he was in the army in his youth. Don't worry, he never killed anyone or anything, this was the Irish army. As we all know the Irish Army, like the Gardai, are only there for show, just for the sake of being able to say that we actually HAVE an army. The effect of such a haircut is quite disconcerting. I look radically different, it has a significant effect on how the proportions of my face appear. Every time I look in the mirror I think: 'Christ! That nose is fucking huge'. My face looks really long too. Both of which are always true, of course, but the longer my hair the less drastic they seem. To cheer you up here are some ugly professional footballers.

I've also begun cultivating Sea Monkeys, the world's only instant pets. I never had a pet when I was a child, which I think might be the reason that I've never learned to show any kind of affection to any living thing. Well that's all gonna change very soon. These brine shrimp will solve all of my problems and make my life complete.

With Christmas only two days away, I'm getting all excited at the prospect of Santa Claus coming down my chimney... oh, um... Click here to see what Saint Nicholas really looked like, and click here to see what you should've asked him for. Oh, and if I don't see you before Christmas, have a good one.

posted by Adrian @ 5:23 PM 0 comments

Either That Wallpaper Goes Or I Do*

Adrian returns from the Morrissey concert virtually unscathed. Physically at least. It was a frightening and confusing ordeal involving a middle aged 80s icon prancing around dressed like a priest, while onlookers, both young and old, were worked up into an almost religious fervour. Somehow I felt quite out of place in the middle of all this, particularly as I got fairly close to the stage. Still, 'How Soon Is Now' and 'Don't Make Fun Of Daddy's Voice' were worth the asking price. I wish I'd thought to bring a banner that said 'Michael Stipe is God!', or some condoms filled with hand cream to throw at the stage. Why do I always think of these things after the fact? Oh, I was the one who shouted 'Band Aid Rocks', by the way. There are some other details of the night, involving my making an gigantic idiot out of myself. But you really don't need to hear about that.

What you really do need to hear about is that today is the winter solstice and the pagan feast of Yule, which, as far as I know does not involve women dancing naked around a fire, and is, as such, of absolutely no interest to me. It is cold and dark, though. Oh, here's some Gummi related news.

So I went home, and I cried and I wanted to die.

*

posted by Adrian @ 3:55 PM 0 comments

A Big Hug With Words

So, it was that time again on Thursday. The time when I donate a whole pint of my common-as-muck A positive blood to whichever poor unfortunate needs it. They try not to make it feel so utterly impersonal, which is admirable. Of course, the reason that I'm a regular donor is because it's about the only charitable thing you can do that doesn't involve parting with money. Curse my middle class guilt! Christ, I'm white, middle class AND Catholic, I know more about guilt than OJ Simpson. It doesn't help that every time I walk down the street I'm accosted by people asking me if I have 'a minute for Concern'. 'Yes, I've got all the time in the world for Concern, what I don't have is ANY FUCKING MONEY!'. Perhaps I should start wearing a sandwitch board that informs people of this fact.

Worryingly, I've been given reason to doubt the effectiveness of my medicaton. Since earlier in the week I've been the victim of the devastating pedulum swing of my moods. I've become apathetic, despondant and am completely without motivation. Still, it could be worse, I could be the target of Anonymous' bile. Or his dead cat for that matter.

*sigh*

posted by Adrian @ 3:37 PM 2 comments

I Was Born With A Sad Face

...and so I grew up to be a sad person. What makes me sad? In the last few weeks a show called The Swan has begun being broadcast on TV3. It makes me sadder than a very sad person. My heart is shrivelling like a prune at the very thought. The idea of the show is that several women compete against each other who compete against each other in a competition where their appearances are changed radically to conform with LA's definition of attractive. Kinda reminds me of the episode of Cow & Chicken where Chicken competes in a plastic surgery tournament. Possibly the funniest cartoon in the history of humanity. I laughed so hard I ruptured my spleen, I did.

But it's genuinely sad, especially considering the new pioneering Chinese beauty pageant Miss Artificial Beauty, in which only women who have had cosmetic surgery can compete. Surely the tragic story of Lolo Ferrari or even that of Michael freakin' Jackson should be a lesson to all. Thanks to the media, certain deeply insecure people are being persuaded that they should undergo unnecessary surgery. Lolo Ferrari is a truly extreme example of how a person's insecurities and warped view of their own appearance can be extremely damaging. Having silicone or saline implants creates a signifcant and unnecessary health risk, y'know?

Oh, why even bother?

posted by Adrian @ 3:44 PM 4 comments

What? More Links?

Adrian demands you check out Mr. T Vs. Pablo Picasso. It deserves an entire entry by itself. But just so you don't feel short changed: you could also check the Church Of The SubGenius, Good Idea/Bad Idea, Franz Kafka, Bog Trotters, etc.

posted by Adrian @ 12:16 PM 0 comments

Pooing Silently And Sadly

My lack of social skills is a genuine concern. When people say hello, or talk to me on the street all I can do is stare blankly, desperately trying to think of someething to say. Something occured to me this morning, though. The idea of having enemies. In primary school I didn't have friends, I had enemies. I was never any good at making friends. In fact, since this morning I've already got a new mortal enemy. From now on, when people make an attempt to be friendly to me I'm going to start shaking my fist in the air and shouting at them angrily.

Have you noticed that when you try to read something in a dream all of the letters are really blurry or messed up? Most of my dreams are about nothing in particular. Just like each day of my life. I've become resigned to the fact that I'm going to die alone.

posted by Adrian @ 1:10 PM 1 comments

Get Confident, Stupid!

So it turns out it's not a good idea to stop taking Cipramil for three days. Nor is it an especially good idea to drink while taking Cipramil. I finally got to experience the College Carol Service for the perspective of an audience member, which would've been a whole lot more enjoyable if not for the fact that my return to the medication after three days exacerbated the symptoms, meaning that my anxiety got considerably worse and so I spent the entire service unable to sit still. I was also confronted with a situation which has caused my a significant amount of frustration in the past: starting a conversation with someone. For some reason my mind just goes completely blank. I get really awkward and can think of nothing. Pfff... serves me right for being so damn sociable I suppose. Still, there are times in life where my, um, social deficiencies can become a burden. I think Morrissey said it best:

posted by Adrian @ 5:00 PM 2 comments

Like, Y'Know, Mortality And Stuff

With all of this concern about my own mortality, lately, I've decided to come up with the list of ten things that I want to do before I die:

1. Get rich from making women hate their bodies even more. A no-brainer; perhaps I could market a flesh eating acid as a diet soft drink or something.
2. Leave an ass-print in William Shatner's birthday cake.
3. Open my own brothel in Germany and then run it into the ground with my laughably poor business practices.
4. Get a perfect body: rock hard abs, etc.
5. Have a coffee enema.
6. Do the horizontal hokey-pokey with TG4 presenter Mairead Ni Ghormain.
7. Get my own fragrance.
8. Find true love.
9. Bear Paul Rose's illegitimate children.
10. Hunt a species to extinction.

posted by Adrian @ 1:55 PM 1 comments

My religion is called Adrianity.
It's based on my sacred teachings.

posted by Adrian @ 1:46 PM 0 comments

A Twist In Our Tale...

I awoke to the sound of a shower running. I had thought that I was alone, and was, as such rather surprised. I tentatively made my was to the en suite bathroom and opened the door. I was shocked to find that it was tv's Patrick Duffy in the shower. So he wasn't dead after all! It had all been a dream. Phew! I was worried there for a minute. Thankfully, though, my beautiful, glorious bodily hair remains untouched.

Oh, rather worryingly I keep getting spam in my gmail account offering me cut price Vicodin whenever I need it. I'm beginning to think I might have a problem, as I'm actually quite tempted by this. On a more positive note winter has officially been cancelled, which means I need no longer toy with the idea of hibernating. It is tempting though: binge eating and then sleeping for several months straight. So, are we worried about global warming turning our country into soggy, icy wasteland? Of course we're not. That's for another generation to worry about. Thank goodness for my medicated calm.

posted by Adrian @ 11:23 AM 0 comments

The Excitement Continues...

As a result of yesterday's text voting our hero found himself getting a rather painful full body wax, leaving him completely hairless. This however could be seen as an advantage while exposing himself to any unfortunate young women who happened to pass through the green in Trinity College at dusk. Unfortunately, he found himself being arrested and imprisoned by the ever vigilant Gardaí, who keep the streets safe for the peaceloving citizens of Dublin city. Particularly from strange men exposing themselves in public.

But, during a well deserved communal shower our hero drops the soap and finds himself with the prospect of being brutally bum-raped by a disease ridden junkie! If you want Adrian to...

• take it like a man, text A
• take it like a sissy, text B
• run wet, naked and screaming through the halls of Mountjoy prison, text C.

posted by Adrian @ 9:48 AM 4 comments

Interactive Fun!

Better Living Through Chemistry is becoming interactive! From now on YOU can control the action by means of text voting:

• If you want Adrian to pop even more pills, text A to the number at the bottom of your screen.
• If you want Adrian to get a full body wax, text B to the number at the bottom of your screen.
• If you want Adrian to continue complaining about life in general, text C to the number at the bottom of your screen.

posted by Adrian @ 9:30 AM 0 comments

Talent Can Be Measured Out Of 150

Clarinet exam today. The interesting thing about these exams is that, while I'm playing my pieces, my thoughts tend to be as far as possible from what I'm doing. Whereas a few hours before I was stressing over a getting the notes in a certain bar right, when I found myself in the exam I was basically drifting off, as my fingers and my lips seemed to know what they were doing. As I entered the room I was confronted with a blonde middle-aged English woman, who greeted me with a smile. (Of course ALL examiners employed by the Associated Board are English, presumably because there are no Irish people that could be trusted to do the same job adequately) I confess that my thought processes in such situations are always the same, I began considering her appearance, how she would have looked twenty years ago, how attractive she was now, her features, figure, etc. The interesting thing about this woman, I found, was the fact that despite being constantly chirpy, professional, friendly, etc., she was able to sound quite menacing at the same time. Clearing indicating her dipleasure at the fact that I hadn't got a fucking clue about melodic minor scales.

I had been advised to smile at the end of each piece, by my accompanist, but found that my examiner spent the whole of each performance absorbed in the comments she was writing, not allowing herself to be swayed by my heartwarming smile. After the two pieces my accompanist left, leaving me alone with the examiner. The performance of the study, thankfully only resulted in one earsplitting squeak, i.e. considerably fewer than had been the case when I practiced it earlier that day. Upon leaving the exam I realized that I would be able to make it back to college in time for my music systems programming lecture: a whole hour of staring blankly while trying to look like I'm paying attention AND that I understand what's being said. JOY! I feel swishy and headachey at the moment, which considering how calm I managed to stay earlier today seems like a small price to pay.

Moral: Exams are crap and I hate them.

posted by Adrian @ 3:22 PM 1 comments

BLTC: New & Improved

I've decided that my blog is rubbish. Clearly the only way to improve it is to add lots of extraneous and unneccessary links, so without furthur adieu: lose weight with Richard Simmons!, get buff with Jack La Lanne, get in touch with your gay/adventurous side and get in touch with Jesus Christ, carpenter, preacher and all round righteous dude.
Also: why rock music is rubbish, onemonkey, the phobia list, perfect sideburns, Devo defined, Mr. Biffo, inferiority complex, news for Jews, was Jesus the messiah?, how Christmas works, love tactics, The New World Order and RedMorals.

posted by Adrian @ 1:56 PM 0 comments

Colour Me Bored

I am numb, which is a concern. I can't really feel much of anything. Could it be that drugs are not the answer? Novembergruss. Could it be that there are no answers. Through my adolescence I found that patriotism had nothing to offer me. Similarly, whether or not there is a God, religion has nothing to offer me. Contact with others seems to only lead to disappointment, rejection, boredom, etc. Perhaps I should concede that there are simply no solace to be found.

If drugs cannot help me in any substantial manner, I can at least cross them off my list. Most other activities in my life basically concist of killing time, and serve no real purpose, beyond momentary distraction. It occurs to me that on some level I may actually strive towards numbness. What other function can television serve? And let's not forget the whole auto-asphixiation thing. I don't really like most of my emotions, and understandably try to block them out, don't we all? I've been informed that my blog has a disappointing lack of angry ranting. You'll also notice how little music is mentioned. Why? I'm too busy riding the empty calm. The vacuous silence.

'Til next time spuds!

posted by Adrian @ 6:28 PM 2 comments

Xmas Time, Mistletoe And Wine

I'm running on empty. The last two days have been draining in every way imaginable. To the extent that if you were to give me a gentle nudge I would tip over. I can at least be content that I've got most of my Xmas shopping done. I'm of the opinion that you can tell how well you know someone by how easy you find it to buy them a gift. Although there are those peole who are simply impossible to buy for. Those people are rubbish, and I hate them. Surely running around Dublin like a headless chicken for four hours straight, in December, is the kind of feat that can only be safely acheived with the aid of some sort of medication.

The problem today is that I'm exhausted to the extent that both my intellect and my emotions have simply shut down, and I'm completely numb. Outwardly, I'm sure I seem to be functioning as normal, but this is purely mechanical. One leg ahead of the other. Like a wind-up doll. I seem to be experiencing some of the effects of the Cimpramil, but it in no way prevents me from experiencing the effects of an extremely stressful experience. However, during my forty-five minute stretch in the waiting room, for the psychiatrist, this morning I experienced a perfect calm. The kind that surely could not be natural.

Current T-Shirt Slogan: Adrian Mee: Inventor Of Jazz

posted by Adrian @ 9:51 PM 0 comments