Adventures of an asshole

“Let’s lighten things up and talk about abortion.” It is illegal to abort a child in Ireland. For the life of me I cannot understand why that is. The fact is that I have met a lot of people that should have been terminated while in the womb.

To give you an example of what I mean. Last week I was riding the bus. Two chave kids, twelve or so entered the bus and immediately started to provoke the people on the bus.  A chave is a non-educated delinquent who roams the street of every suburb in Ireland and Britain. They are quite easily separated from the rest of the population by their choice of clothing (tracksuits), haircut (broad Mohawk) and demeanour (aggressive and irritating). Think football hooligan and you get the idea. Now the miniaturized brats that entered the bus were just as annoying that you can imagine.

“Get out of that fucking seat you fucking pig!” One of the kids said to a guy sitting at the back of the bus.

Then one of the little shits saw me and made an advance for my hat. I pushed away his hand and told him to fuck of. His respond was to call me an asshole and urged me to give him my paddy hat. His face showing signs of anger and chromosomal dismay. I asked him if he was mentally challenged. He said:

“Yes, what are you gonna do about it?”

This is what I wanted to answer:

“Nothing that your father hasn’t already done to you and your sister.”

I did not say that. Instead I waited for him to loose interest, which he did.

This little episode reconfirms a hypothesis that I have had for a long time. Some people should not have kids, in fact they should be nuttered. If the parental units of this little brat could not bring him up to become an individual who respects his fellow man then maybe they should not have had children at all. This also gives me another reason to say something that I have said before: abortions should be legalised in Ireland.

But before that happens there is one thing that Ireland is in desperate need for: coat hangers.

”You look sick, like dead sick”, I told Maureen as I was cutting up and splattering blood all over my shirt.

She did not respond by hitting me or checking her temperature. Insteed she looked at me with those big mischievous eyes and happylie responded with the words:

“Thank you. But I can be deader.”

I guess the rules of what constitutes as a compliment are a bit of when it is Halloween. Yesterday me, Maureen, Henrik, Michelle and Karin went to the Halloween bal that the Student Union organised. It was awsome!

We started our ghouls' night out at my place. Fixing the make-up, getting our buzz on and eating pizza. A pritty standard pre-drink, except from the fact that everyone got covered in blood. Maureen kinda became the make-up guru, fixing everyones make-up. Zombies drinking wine with their blood covered mouths are soo classy.

Then we took a cab to the ball. We danced all night, scared the shit out of the small kids that looked like zombies and drank Jack Daniels. Rock n roll mother fucker!

I saw Superman making out with Wonder Woman, Robin being kicked out because he was to drunk and a fat guy in a toga.

I have just returned from my third lesson so far about plagiarism. For some reason the Irish students seem to have a hard time understanding the concept of attributing someone else’s work. What is so hard with putting in a reference?

It annoys the crap out of me that valuable time must be wasted to make sure that some fuck-ups don’t fuck up. It is not quantum mechanics, just academic writing.

Dear Aquiantence,

It has been a long time since we met. To be perfectly honest I cannot recall how your voice sounds or if I even liked you when we talked. I keep you as a “friend” on Facebook since I am too lazy to remove you. Basically, you are an artefact of days gone by, one of the scalps I build my mountain of success upon.

Having said that, why do you think I would help you getting a “Choco-Cow” in Farmville, kill some punks for you in Mafia Wars or help you zombifie people?

I have better ways to waste my time than to dick around on Facebook playing mind numbing games. So please stop sending me these invites or pleads for help.

While on the subject of people bothering you on the social network. Why do people think that I like that they tag me on pictures of commercial social event posters, on different cartoon pictures where I am described as “the aggressive one” or on pictures where I drink?

I, mean, I am not even interested of the fact that you have become a parent, been fired from your job or that you ate water melon yesterday. That you keep bothering me with 50 word status updates of your trip to the mall annoys the shit out of me.

It is not that I do not like you. In fact I am almost indifferent to your very existence. So please, the people on Facebook, stop bothering me.

Having said that I hope that you are well and do not wish you any harm.

Your Facebook pal,

The Asshole

IS IRELAND A NATION OF CHRIST?

Written by Eric Johansson

THE upcoming results of the 2011 census are expected to show that the percentage of atheists in the Irish population will have increased. The last census, in 2006, showed that about 186.000 people in the country considered themselves atheists.

The increase in non-religious beliefs raises the question of exactly how much religion should regulate everyday life in Ireland?

I am from Sweden, a country where only 17 percent of the population consider religion as an important influence in their life.  Being from what the Westboro Baptist church in Kansas referred to as a “fag nation”, I can see obvious differences in how religion matters here in Ireland and how it don’t in Sweden. The most obvious and serious ones are the differences regulated in law.

The thing with religious freedom is that it also includes the freedom of not being religious. One step to secure religious freedom is to make sure that the country is secular, which means that the church and state should be separated. This is not the case in Ireland.

Religion is ideology. That means religious views should be considered and open for debate as any political thought. Therefore I was quite appalled when I found out that the Irish constitution actually has a ban against blasphemy. Even if the law is not regularly used, it is still there, a constant threat of censorship and putting a gag on the right of free speech. The ban does not exist in Sweden.

Neither does the illegitimacy of abortions.

As you well know, it is illegal for a woman to make an abortion in Ireland unless there is a threat for her life if she doesn’t. The effect is that a lot of unwanted pregnancies are being taken care of in the United Kingdom, at least if the woman got the economic strength to do so. In my opinion the ban against abortion is motivated by unmodern religious thought and has only one purpose: to disqualify women’s right to their own bodies.

I have friends who have made abortions. These girls where not religious and saw it as the right thing to do. But even if they where certain that it was the right decision, it was still not a pleasant experience. The idea that the state could have made it more difficult for them than it already was is sickening to me.

There are more examples of how religious values are regulated in the Irish law but these are two of the more serious ones.

These obstacles stands in the way of letting the Irish people make choices for themselves as freethinking individuals on what they believe in.

Laws are norms that are sanctioned by the state. They communicate which values and culture that are accepted in the nation. The examples above scream that the culture of Ireland so far is a culture of Christ, even if more and more persons are becoming atheists.

The plan:

Study, go to the gym and go back and study.

Implementation:

Right let’s start. Just see what happens on Facebook.

Half an hour later: Right, now I can start. Just gonna see what this site about demotivational posters is like.

Three hours later:  Hungry. Need food. Have no food. Got to go shoping.

One hour later: Mm food. Let’s watch some Buffy.

The plan:

Study, go to the gym and go back and study.

Implementation:

Right let’s start. Just see what happens on Facebook.

Half an hour later: Right, now I can start. Just gonna see what this site about demotivational posters is like.

Three hours later:  Hungry. Need food. Have no food. Got to go shoping.

One hour later: Mm food. Let’s watch some Buffy.

Last week I had my first opportunity to write an assignment for An Focal, the student unions newspaper here at the University of Limerick. One of the subjects that I could choose from where wether or not you should be single during your years in college. That subject slipped through my fingers and I got another equally interesting subject to write about. What that subject is you will be able to see in the next issue of An Focal.

But I still felt obliged to write a text about why you should be single during the third level education years. Mostly because I thought it could be fun. Reading what I wrote have made me realise that this would never get printed. It is kinda funny though.

This is what I wrote:

WHY YOU SHOULD BE SINGLE IN COLLAGE

Written by Eric Johansson

BORING. Your best friend tells you about how he and his beloved stayed in all weekend to watch the re-run of Gilmore Girls. This is the friend who had a life three months ago. Now he just have partner. He tells you how wonderful it was to cuddle up with his partner in bed and to eat ice-cream. His ass ever-expanding as he tells you about commitment, staying in and how it feels to finally have someone. You stopped listening five minutes ago. He has this calm and content look in his eyes, docile like a Hindu cow.

The fact of the matter is that you want what he has; someone to love, trust and that you will not feel strange around. The truth is though that the pursuit of happiness has made you into a better person. You know what they say about things that do not kill you.

You will learn more about yourself with every failed attempt of sexual conquest. The devestation of rejection will pull you deeper down into your self-examination pit. The more you are the destroyed the more you will know about yourself. You will realise that scar-tissue is stronger than regular tissue. You will learn how strong you are.

You will learn to be social, to make new friends. Social skills are like any other skill aquirred through training. This is what your study advisor would label as networking.

You will learn not to try to pick up girls with the line “Why don’t you like me? I am fucking adorable!” screamed at the top of your lungs. This is what your study advisor would label as personal growth.

Some people start to study at the university without knowing how to cook or do their laundery. Are these really the persons you can expect to form serious relationships?

Of course not.

These are the same guys whose first accidental nightly ejaculation has not yet dried up on their sheets. They are so undeveloped that they do not know what love is. They constantly mistake sexual attraction for love. They have not fucked enough to know the difference between sex and making love.

Neither have you. But it is not because of the lack of trying. You have tried with both positive and negative outcomes.

So stay single and see if you can find that special someone or at least continue to develop until you can spot and recognize true love when you see it.

When you do, your ass will start to grow to.

Your number is one. You are the one, the only. From here no one is as strong as you are. Being alone is not a problem for you. Nights, weekends, months, years with keeping yourself company has thought you that nothing is as bad as long as you have yourself. You can be trusted. You matter. Your number is one. Undivided.

I hate when the gym is full. There I was, set on self-torment and resurrection through self-destruction. In other words: I wanted to lift some weights.

To my disappointment the gym was full of loosy-goosy chubby fatties who stood in my way to attend physical perfection. Between every set I had to wait three minutes while some unknown person did his.

I did my sets but in the end there was no fire in the repetitions.

And the punching bags where used by some club. So no quality time was possible. Frustrated and angry I went home to do some studying.

It is Tuesday and the world is waiting for you.

Wake up. Get your hair products together. It is time for another week in your cage. Time to evolve. Here, have some cafeein. It is Monday.