The wonder that is The Emo Fringe

I had a thought earlier on...
In recent years, we've all seen the phenomenon that is the emo fringe, right?
The ever-so-unattractive sweep of hair across one's forehead. Perfect for creating that ever essential air of mystery, or rather, a sense of anonymity. Not only do you get to blend in amongst a sea of people with the same haircut, but you also get partial facial obscurity. Result.

I got to thinking though, and realised.... isn't the emo fringe like a younger version of the combover? Today's high-stylin', makeup wearing, skinny jeans afficionados are just tomorrow's balding men with a beer gut and an ugly check shirt.



Attractive, huh?

Also, is the emo haircut not a bit like a mullet, but in reverse?
With a mullet, we're talking short hair in front, long and dangly down the back. An emo has short hair in the back, with a sweeping fringe across their face.


(Truly FABULOUS photo, by the way)


There's some food for thought, my friends.

The Skanks are Starting Young These Days

I was perusing Perez earlier, and one of his posts made me think of something.
Young famous girls are getting skankier earlier and earlier than their predecessors.

There seems to be this uncontrollable urge in young Hollywood for all the starlets to out-skank each other.

Example:

Who hasn't seen those photos of the Disney Channel princess, Miley Cyrus?

You know the ones I mean, the Annie Leibovitz Vanity Fair photos.
Sure, they were very well taken photos by a phenomenal photographer, but let's bear in mind that the girl is 15 years old.

Another young skank is Vanessa Hudgens. I'm sure everyone remembers that scandal with the naked photos.

Who's next, Ashley Tisdale?

We've all probably been guilty of looking a bit skanky, or posing ridiculously just so we look pretty on our Myspace pages, but there is such thing as too young. I'm 22 and would be fairly creeped out by some middle aged guy perving over a photo of me on a website, so why is it that a 15 year old doesn't seem to really care?

Also, in the case of Miley Cyrus, she's not just a nameless teenager. She's a celebrity, and something of a role model for little girls, considering most of her fans would probably be in the 8-14 age group.

When you're famous and fully aware that everything you do is going to be noticed, why do you start posting photos like this on the internet?:

To most people acting the absolute fool, I'd usually say "grow up", but in this case, I think that's exactly the problem...

So, here I'm going to say "Act your age".. and, Miley? Your age isn't that of a 25 year old porn star. Just so we're clear, love.

What's your Status?

I was just on one of those social networking sites, and noticed that one of the information fields was 'social status'..
Now, looking at this, one might wonder what exactly a social status is.
I suppose anything that makes us different or groups us into a certain category in society is a social status.
Blue collar, white collar. Working class, middle class. School leaver, University graduate.
All of these 'statuses' are different to each other. All of them hold categories where one is seen as being 'better' than the other.

Naturally, on one of these sites, one would assume that the social status was in reference to the person's employment.

Wrong. This referred to whether or not the person was in a relationship.

Their status in society was determined by whether or not they have someone that they find mutually attractive enough to keep around.

Seriously, what kind of a society is it when your status in it, the thing that ranks you, segregates you, marks you, is something so trivial and inane?

Ridiculous, really.

Sell your soul - get on the Dole!

I'm just going to come right out and say it: I have a problem with the Dole.

You can call me stuck up, or snobby, or whatever else your little heart desires, but the fact of the matter is, I have a huge, enormous, excruciating problem with the Dole.
Why such a loathing for the unemployment benefit, you may ask?

Simple. Because it's just that. An Unemployment Benefit. But yet there's a vast number of people that seem to think it's a Sit on Your Arse and Do Fuck-All Benefit.

The dole was created so that people who had lost their jobs or couldn't find jobs could keep themselves afloat whilst looking for work.

All very well and good, but of course, this is Ireland, and Ireland wouldn't be Ireland without people trying to get something for nothing.

The government may be crap, and yes, the opportunities for jobs in this country aren't the best, but the fact of the matter is that we still go to school, college, work, whatever. We work to earn a living. We work hard and long hours and save for holidays and Christmas and go on nights out and really appreciate what we're earning. Most of us anyway.
But what we also do is pay tax. We pay tax, and we grumble and moan about it and bitch about how the Government doesn't need any more money.
And this very same government, the one that's taking our money and making us pay tax because we work, is taking that money and giving it to people because they DON'T work.

How many people who are on the Dole can honestly say that for every month they've been on it, they've been actively out seeking work? Not many, I'd wager.

Let me tell you something. When I was in Second year of college, I had a really shitty job. It was hard, hard work and left you feeling insanely drained at the end of the day. Granted, I only worked Saturdays and Sundays, but throw this in on top of my college work, I was knackered. I got paid €120 per week, for working those two days. Not great, but when you're in college and all you really care about is having money for pints and a 3-in-1 from Charlie's on the way home, you get by.
So, there I was. Getting €120 per week, and a friend who's on the dole informs me that she's taking in €195 per week. To say I was disgusted was something of an understatement.

I was going to lectures, going to work, doing essays, spending time travelling to and from these places. My friend, on the other hand, was waking at noon, watching reruns of Sex and the City, going out till dawn and having a great time!

I'm not complaning about my own situation. I'm just saying that, put in comparison with people on the dole, what the fuck are we working for?

I'm currently studying for a Masters. And many of you out there are in college too. We're all studying, and working, because we want a good career, right?

Well, the next time you're in the company of a total waster, you may as well write them a cheque. That's where your money's going anyway.

Oh, and worried about the recession? It's okay, there's always the fucking dole.

:)

The Ex Files

They say breaking up is hard to do. Bullshit. Breaking up is easy. It's what follows the breakups that's difficult.

I once dated a guy for quite some time. He's 'The' ex, you know the one I mean. The one you compare future breakups to, the one you bitch about, basically the one that hurt you enought to have any kind of effect on you.

After we broke up, we agreed to stay friends, and it was all very nice...on the surface. We used to hang out, and text each other frequently and talk on the phone and whatnot.

I was young, and stupid, and still had feelings for him, which he well knew, and of course was delighted to get messages from him saying "luv u" and such. Time passed, and his misleading texts and emails continued to the point where I had come to the final straw. Instead of being pleased about the sweet nothings he'd bestow upon me, I realised that's exactly what they were. Nothings. There was nothing there.

This same ex made a pass at me one night. This was my opportunity. I could either reciprocate and delight in a fling with the ex, followed by the despair when I would inevitably realise that no, we're not getting back together, or I could walk away. I walked.

I told him that I was sick of the text messages, sick of the empty "i luv u"s dotted around his emails, sick of him thinking that I was always going to be there. I know what you're thinking. Maybe he missed you and wanted you back... yup, I considered this. But I also considered the fact that at this point we'd been broken up over a year and there wasn't the faintest waft of another girl in his life, whereas I'd gone right through the rebound circuit and out the other side. He was bored, and hadn't so much as kissed another girl, so naturally assumed I would be little Miss Ready Willing and Able.

Think again buddy.

We didn't talk for awhile after that. In time we'd talk again, but things were different. There was no more sweetness, no kindness. He was harsh and cruel and insulting. No doubt bitter with a wounded ego, but he became unbearably nasty.

I'd try to make conversation with him and he'd shoot back some backhanded comment. Trust me, I was no angel to him, and I have an acid tongue and can be an absolute bitch. But in my defence, I did try. I tried to be his friend. Turns out all he wanted was a verbal punch bag.

I'm sure there was nobody else that he spoke to the way he spoke to me. He treated me with no respect and with utter disdain.

I'm glad he's no longer in my life, but it's very sad to see someone who used to be my best friend as well as my boyfriend could turn into someone that I would consider a truly horrible person.

It's taught me a lesson, though. Always evaluate how you speak to people, because you might be completely disrespecting someone without even realising it. And take it from me, it's no fun being on the recieving end of that.

Over the hills and far away...

There's something that's been majorly bothering me this week.
And no, not in my usual cynical way. Actually bothering me.

I live further away from the city than my friends do. As a result of this, it is understandable that I would often meet my friends in towns or the city closer than my house is. But what happens when I get sick of having to take two buses to get to my friends' houses? I've stopped driving thanks to this wonderful law that prohibits learner drivers from driving without a fully licensed driver, which means that my means of transport has been downgraded to the delight that is Dublin Bus.

Let me just say this: I have lived in my current home for ten years. I am used to travelling to places. But I'm also damn sick of it. I'm tired of people making excuses and me having to travel out to their houses. I'm sick of having to leave parties and places early just so I can get back home. I'm sick of going out so far away from my home and having to trek back while my friends can walk back to their houses.

I'm putting my foot down. I am done travelling. I am done going to people's houses.
From now on, I am only visiting people for every visit they give me.
You want me to come to your house? Great. Make the fucking effort to travel out to me and then I'll extend the same courtesy.

Yes, you might find it a pain to get out here, but just think of all the times you've gotten me to travel out to you.

Not fair, is it?