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The ramblings of Mrs. Hoolihan

My rants on life and everything in between. Desperately trying to remind myself that it's just not worth the jail time.

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Life

Why I blog.


Recently I was asked a really interesting question and one I was a little unprepared for.

“Why do you blog?” Bravo, good question.

I write because it’s carthatic.

I write because I love to rant and I write because I don’t give two fucks what anyone thinks.

Writing is a good way to empty one’s mind of all the shit we load into it each day. I was literally getting to a point where I thought it’d explode, so I started to dump a lot of it down into words – to get it off my chest or to simply reminisce.

I was telling someone about it and they suggested that I publish my ramblings, so I did.

I’m not looking for appreciation nor approval, I’m way too long in the tooth to a give a flying fuck about whether anyone is critical over my ramblings; for that’s exactly what they are.

Critique away if you like – a thumbs up is always a sign that I’ve made someone laugh with my innate bullshit ramblings and well, if you’re still reading this and critiquing me, then bitch, that just made you a fan.

Lovers will love, the haters will hate and I’ll still be here, spilling my mind.

Read and smile or read and mock – i couldn’t give a toss as the only opinion that’s really valid is my own!

 

Everyone thought it. I just said it.


I’ve got into immense trouble over the years for saying what’s on my mind.

My comeback is always the same, “Everyone thought it, I just said it.” Which, if everyone is true to themselves, would agree whole heartedly on.

The thing I’ve learnt over the years is that, it’s ok for others to say what they like, but the minute I do, I’m cast as the uber bitch, Alexis Carrington eat your heart out. But you thought it, I always think, so what’s the big deal?

I think it’s often, not what I say, but how I say it that winds people up. I don’t go out of my way to upset people, far from it, but I will say I won’t put up with bullshit, from anyone. I think I could sniff bullshit from the moon if I was ever cast up there; it’s just so obvious and I can’t sit there nodding away like those little Churchill dogs in agreement.

My best friend Emma is exactly the same. They say if your friendship lasts longer than 7 years, you’ll be friends for life. I’ve known Emma since I was 11 so we’re basically soulmates. Anyway what makes our friendship work is our ability to sniff bullshit out. Now as adults, we’ve near on perfectionists at sniffing BS out.

At nearly 35, I’m done with appeasing people; if you piss me off, damn right I’ll tell you. A bit like the lions at the zoo, may be I should come with a warning “Keep away – says it how it is”.  Food for thought I guess.

Fuck it. Fuck you. Fuck off.


“Fuck it. Fuck you. Fuck off”

Let’s be honest, we all think this. You? Maybe a couple of times a day. Me? At least 74 times a day. I’m unsure if I’m perfectly honest, but I know that I do mutter this, often under my breath, a lot.

I’m no hater; I’m not hating on anyone before you let your imagination run away with itself. Good god, no. I’m just a HUMAN BEING. A human being who is unable first and foremost and secondly, who quite frankly, is unwilling to be tolerant to other people’s BS, fuckery or general shittiness (in what ever form it may occur).

Whether it’s people generally fucking up in everyday life, on public transport (thank the good, sweet lord, I no longer have to use this, quitting my old job secured this), having to navigate around general fucktards in the supermarket, or even watching tv, I find myself muttering “Fuck it, fuck you” or “fuck off”.

Today has started off to be a shitter of a day. “Fuck it, fuck you, fuck off” springs to mind at it’s not even 9am, I woke up to an alarm this am, pitch black outside and my immediate thought was, “Why the fuck did I set my alarm for a Saturday am?” Well it’s not bastarding Saturday is it? No. It’s bloody Wednesday. “Fuck it” was my second thought of the day.

When you’ve already kicked the day off with a “fuck it” you just know it’s going to be one of those bloody days. Making the mistake of looking at Facebook a couple of minutes ago and all I could think was “fuck off”; dirty laundry once again being aired in public (so uncouth and frankly, unneeded but that’s neediness I guess for you) and so the hamster wheel cycle of everyday life continues I guess.

Before my day gets any shittier, I’m going to sit and breathe for a moment; gather my thoughts and think positively for the rest of the day – actually who am I kidding? Fuck it actually, I’m off for a chocolate bar – chocolate helps in times like these and well if you don’t like it, me or my blog or you’ve been offended in any way, you know what you can do don’t you? ( I make zero apologies for my language or directness this morning either) Fuck right off!

Even if I had a pocketful of fucks, I still wouldn’t give you one.


Even if I had a pocketful of fucks, I still wouldn’t give you one. This rationale is simple; as the years have  gone by, I’ve gone full circle in how I view the world.

When I was younger, I held zero tolerance for people and their general fuckery. You pissed me off, that was it, we were done. Forgive and forget? Hell no. Then a series of unfortunate events led me to change my mind. With this came along a period of reflection and ultimately resulted in me reassessing life and in turn, people. I became tolerant to people’s shit. I say tolerant, this isnt strictly true. I just learnt to let people’s shit, their attitudes and their general fuckery wash over me like a wave. Forgive? Yes possibly because I thought life was too short to do anything other than forgive.

Recently, I’ve been reassessing (once again). A series of unfortunate events (out of my control, unfortunately), have led me to come full circle, once again. No longer will I tolerate shit attitudes and being treated and spoken to, like shit.

Once again hardened, by the fuckery of human beings, forgive and forget has become something that quite honestly, is unobtainable for me. The problem lies with me you see, for being stupid. I was stupid enough to think that human beings could be tolerant towards each other.

Whether it’s in your personal life, work life or generally being a human being, I’ve learnt that people can be horrible, vicious and destructive creatures. Regardless of whether they’re trying to destroy your relationship, sabotage your career path or generally being a dick everyday, people prove that they really can display their best presentation of  what fuckery is.

No longer tolerant of shit, I’ve decided fuck it, those human beings who can’t prove themselves to be decent people, can fuck right off. Those who can behave like decent humans, I’ll continue to move heaven and earth for. But let’s make one thing clear here, forgive and forget is longer an option – once you’ve crossed me, that’s it, your card’s marked and then you fall into my category of “Even if I had a pocketful of fucks, I still wouldn’t give you one.”

Once you’ve fallen into the category of “Even if I had a pocketful of fucks, I still wouldn’t give you one” you’re not leaving it. No amount of apologising (if you’re decent enough to recognise your behaviour) will change my mind. Just like the devil, you’ll be banished from my consciousness, forever. I may have to deal with you in some capacities, but in essence you’ve fucked it.

Before any mofo thinks about crossing me in any capacity of my life, they may wish to think about the consequences of their actions because this human being is taking no shit, once again – gone is the nice girl and it’s safe to say that resting bitch face has returned.

Just remember, cross my path in the wrong direction and you’ll be straight in the “Even if I had a pocketful of fucks, I still wouldn’t give you one” category and you’ll have no one to blame but yourself when you realise what a momentous prick you’ve made of yourself.

Be a human first.


Always an avid people watcher, I can’t help but analyse the words, actions and behaviour of the human race (sometimes I lament way too much some would say, but that’s another story, for another day).

Watching how people react in particular scenarios amazes me. Sometimes I almost want to pat myself on the back, for I could have foretold the outcome before it even began to unfold. At other times I’m dumbfounded; literally blown from under my feet, I often can’t believe what I’ve witnessed.

Now as you’re probably sick of hearing me say, I’m not really a people’s person. I’m not particularly empathetic nor am I tolerant, but observing people is a hobby. In the 20 odd years that I’ve been people watching (or at least aware of my doing it, for I’ve probably done it since I was a small girl), one re-curring theme that propels itself forward, is the need for humans to label one another.

“You’re a knob”, “You’re a bloody Feminist”, “You’re a narcissist”, “You’re a woman, what would you know?” “Pah. Men are complete morons”, “You’re Catholic, of course you’d think that”, “You’re 21, grow up first”.

Why do we, as humans feel the need to label one another? Is it a reflex, protective primeval instinct? Why can’t we just treat each other with basic respect – be a human first? Before labelling one another, let’s just try and be basic humans first and foremost.

What does being a human encompass?

Well for me it’s treating another homo sapien as you would like to be treated yourself.

Being kind (something that perhaps I need to work on myself), respectful to others views and opinions (you can still air your own, but in a tolerant manner and one that does not hurt or harm another), and empathetic towards others feelings (again I need to work on this, as admittedly sometimes I’ve the tact of a gnat on a hot evening when you’ve slathered your lips in lipgloss) are what I think are the basics. Of course there’s a ton more and of course, the human nature would perhaps wish to sit and argue the toss over what’s deemed the most important…

Just why is it so hard to exhibit the above and just embrace one another? It’s a rhetorical question that no doubt has been asked for thousands of years and will continue to be asked until the end of time.

I’m not saying don’t label, all I’m saying is be a human first. Refrain from apportioning blame, shamelessly calling people out, slinging accusations around on ones’ personality traits – stop it. Stop it and be a human first.

Think the next time you wish to first label. How would you wish to be treated?

Be. A. Human. First.

 

 

 

 

Another year gone Mummy….


2.50am, 2nd March 2011 you were beckoned to Heaven to become an Angel.

Our world stopped. Tick tock, Tick tock, the silence suddenly became so deafening.

Filled with bleakness, panic and a void, we’d only ever known the strength and love of you our Mum and of Dad too. A quiet, steely strength, you were the anchor of our family ship.

The life and soul, you’d light a room with your presence. Never one to shout and scream, you quite literally held the patience of a saint.

Never one to complain, you always put others before yourself. Upon reaching you at hospital at 11.30pm on 1st March, on seeing me enter that little room, your first words were, “Jen love, what’re you doing here, you’ve work tomorrow?” Hours from death and you were more worried about me than yourself – your love for us children was your only thought, not what you were about to face – your love never waived, we were never second only ever first to you.

When you died, a piece of us died with you. A void swept in; shock overcame us and time stood still. It’s been 6 years now and not a day goes by that  I don’t think of you, wish you were here or long one last time, to hug  and smell your skin, the way I used to as a little girl.

You’re still with us, I know for certain. I know you were there on my wedding day last year, the sunbeam on the photos when there was no sun demonstrated your presence. Last year you also missed the birth of your 4th grandchild, your first Granddaughter, Isla’Rose. A little beauty, I know that you’ll be the proudest Grandmother in Heaven and each night, you’ll be looking over your beautiful grandchildren, ensuring their safety as they dream of all things sugar and spice and all things nice…

Harry asked me the other day whose Mummy Nanny Marilyn was and I explained she’s Daddy’s Mummy. He then asked me where my Mummy was and I told him that Nanny Karen is a twinkle twinkle in the star and he asked if you ever spoke to me.. My heart broke but I was determined not to cry – you’d laugh and cry at my beautiful and funny little man – he quite simply has no idea how much I miss you.

I wish you could join us from Heaven once again, if only for one last time for larger than life family meals to meet the newest members of our ever expanding family. You’d adore Wayne and Ross – they’d never tire of your never ending feeding! Your grandchildren you’d adore and you’d relish being able to enjoy looking after the munchkins of a weekend and whilst we worked, baking and cooking with them all – you’d have them domesticated before they even went to school!

Dad, Dave, Ric, Jolene, Maffu and Baby Jayne miss you terribly Mummy. Time may distance us but our hearts never will. You’ll be pleased to know that we’re all as close as ever and together, we always ensure that your memory is kept alive.

Dave undertakes his climb to Everest’s basecamp later this year; please watch over him and keep him safe as  he climbs that bit closer to Heaven won’t you?

Another year may have passed Mummy and yes the void is still there, the pain is still there (sometimes it’s as raw as the day you were beckoned) but I can still feel your warmth, hear your infectious laugh and feel your arms around me – our memories never fade and a piece of you is will always be with me xxx

 

 

 

 

My little sister, Jolene.


It was 18th February, 1988 and I was 7 years old.

Finally YOU arrived. I’d waited since 1983 for you to arrive and I was delirious when Dad called from the hospital that cold, foggy evening and told me that finally, my dream had come true – I finally had a little, baby sister – my little sister, Joanne.

You were the sweetest little baby that anyone could wish for – beautiful, sweet natured and you barely cried. Always wanting to follow me around, you were like my little shadow! Quiet, you’d sit on the sofa, often sucking your thumb, cuddling your comfort blanket and then you’d be gone – off upstairs you’d take yourself and you’d have climbed into bed, all of your own accord.

Always thoughtful and caring, you were a little worrier from the get go. You’d say your prayers and beg that each night, Mum & Dad, and your brothers and sisters would all be ok.

In the 29 years that I’ve had the honour of calling you my my little sister, you’ve always been there for me. Together we’ve travelled to the furthest corner of the world, lazed on beautiful beaches, drank so much jager that you’ve had to be the one that’s the voice of reason, cried together during our darkest moments, walked down the aisle with me and of course, being the best baby sister ever, shoved me into your size 8 clothes when I’ve needed that extra shove!

Today my little sister, you turn 29. One more year in your 20s before you hit another amazing milestone in your life. Our life hasn’t always been easy, but you make life so much more fun and you take the best of bad and sad situations and make the best you can. Your little laughter lines around your eyes are testament to how you spend your life and whilst yes, at times, you can be a pain in the arse, you’re my little sister and I love you to the moon and back.

Happy birthday my darling little sister, Jolene xxxx

 

I’m feeling sorry for myself. 


I’m ill and I’m feeling sorry for myself.

Whilst I have a cold, my husband has man-flu. Whilst I’m coping, he’s ‘dying.’

We went out to celebrate one of our BFFs birthday last night and ended up home and in bed for 10.30pm whilst our mates partied on.

This am, I’ve played my snapchats back my mates sent downing shots and generally being fucked and I’m laid in bed feeling for myself that my ears are blocked and I can’t hear my own voice (probs no bad think you haters are thinking) and my voice sounds like Estelle in ‘Friends.’

However, for the moaning I’m undertaking, my friends have woken rougher than I have, so I’m ever so slightly smug that I’m not the worst one laid in bed this am.

On that note, I’m off to stuff my face with  Lemsip before our little man arrives back  from his sleep over at his Uncle Ric and Aunty Alex’s – I dare say they’re feeling worse than me anyway! 

I love my husband because…


I’m really not into public declarations of love, mainly because I think it’s a bit sickly to be honest but also because sometimes you don’t want to ram how good you’ve got something, down other people’s throats as I totally appreciate that not everyone’s lives are roses and all that shit.

On this occasion, however, I’m going to make an exception.

I fucking love my husband because today, after a late night all round, when our little boy started yelling his head off when he woke, my husband almost jumped up out of bed and the first words I heard him utter were “let’s let Mummy sleep as she’s really tired.”

A day of Harry emitting Satan like behaviour as he’s tired from a late one last night and having every cartoon shoved at us known to man and Wayne’s nipped out to collect us dinner. This, despite the fact he’s torn cartilage in his knee and finds walking unbearable, never mind driving and he’s not grumbled once today.

I love my husband because simply, he’s the dog’s bollocks.

I hate to disappoint ladies, but “Mr Perfect” doesn’t exist in your world – only mine as I’m lucky enough to have bagged this mofo.

If Carlbserg made husbands; mine would be the very handsome and witty fucking blueprint.

Thank you God, I bagged him!

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