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A Ballsy Investment


On a small section of the Sinn Féin website, separated from pictures of smiling politicians and democratic goals, there is an online store where a budding Republican might linger. As one would expect there are all sorts of nationalist and historic memorabilia up for sale, like posters of Irish Martyrs and books about the struggle for independence. Scrolling further down the page the list of categories get more staunch republican; selling items such as Long Kesh wristbands and coloured pins of Bobby Sands. But no matter how much of an Irish patriot you are, would you really have no hesitation walking down the street wearing a T-shirt with the words "IRA" written across the front?

There is no denying that Sinn Fein have previously been sympathisers of the IRA during the troubles, but in recent years the party has openly distanced itself from dissident groups and have gradually gained support from the Irish pubic by focusing on achieving goals through peaceful and democratic methods. Now that Gerry Adams is representing Sinn Fein in Dáil, it is now unquestionably prudent to wipe out any shred of suspicion that he or his party is associated with any dissident group.

Wearing controversial clothing has become something of a fad in western culture and exhibiting your political beliefs on your body is one of the most effective ways to flaunt your message out to the world without actually doing or saying anything. Selling IRA T-shirts on political website will certainly invoke much controversy and emotion amongst anyone who is familiar with Irish history, as it is a constant reminder of the unprecedented violence and senseless deaths that have affected so many people in an unspeakable way.

I have the utmost confidence in saying that you will never see a Sinn Fein politician or candidate parading one these T-Shirts. If Gerry Adams walked into the Dáil tomorrow wearing a T-shirt with the words "IRA: Undefeated army" across the front, there would, without doubt, be a media/national frenzy to stricken the Sinn Fein leader of any political or communal merit that he has painstakingly gained throughout the years. So why in the name of God are the citizens loyal to Sinn Fein expected to keep the cruel memory of the past alive by tormenting passers-by with prospect that the IRA are not dead?

Who is Anders Breivik

"The time for dialogue is over. We gave peace a chance. The time for armed resistance has come."

An enthralling group of online investigators are currently searching the web for clues to track down the motives and persona of the Norwegian sadist Anders Breivik.

Slaughtering over 90 people on the island Utoya and Norwegian city of Oslo, members of the online community seem persistent on finding out why this unprecedented massacre took place.
A 1,500 page manifesto was discovered on a US based white-supremacist forum, which Norwegian authorities later connected it to Breivik. The piece itself is written entirely in English and is entitled "2083: A European Declaration of Independence." The author refers to himself as Andrew Breivik, and posted the document on Stormfront.org earlier this year.

Breivik declares himself a "Justiciar Knight Commander" and explains the need to "seize political and military control of Western European countries and implement a cultural conservative political agenda." In grim, apocalyptic language, it advocates attacks on "traitors" across Europe who are supposedly enabling a Muslim takeover of the continent.

In a chilling forewarning of Friday's attack Breivik wrote "The time for dialogue is over. We gave peace a chance. The time for armed resistance has come." The author also kept a diary which outlines his 82-day attempt to secretly construct a bomb made out of fertilizer while hiding out at a farm in the rural town of Rena.
There is no question that Breivik's sole purpose was to create an explosion large enough to kill a colossal number of people
In an entry dated back to June 13, Breivik describes his first successful detonation:
"I prepared a test device today and drove off to a very isolated site. The test bomb was composed of a 3g DDNP primary and a 30g PA secondary. If this test would fail, I would abandon operation A and move forward with the non-spectacular operation B.
I lit the fuse, went out of range and waited. It was probably the longest 10 seconds I have ever endured…
BOOM! The detonation was successful!!!:-) I quickly drove away to avoid any potential unwanted attention, from people in the vicinity. I would have to come back a few hours later to investigate the blast hole, to see if both compounds had detonated".
Despite his evident hatred of Muslims and Arabs, "Berwick" professes admiration for al Qaeda, which he lists as one of only two "successful militant organisations" due to its "superior structural adaptation. "Elsewhere, he cites al Qaeda's training manual as a reference, and declares, "Just like Jihadi warriors are the plum tree of the Ummah, we will be the plum tree for Europe and for Christianity."
In another eerie parallel, he also calls for suicidal operations in service of the larger cause: "Let us be perfectly clear; if you are unwilling to martyr yourself for the cause, then the PCCTS, Knights Templar is not for you."

In a recent news update from Reuters, Breivik revealed that he killed 93 people to spark a "revolution" against the multiculturalism he believed was sapping Europe's heritage, and experts say a frank debate about immigration may be the best way to prevent similar explosions of violence.

Although Breivik is cooperating with the police and openly revealing his reasons for the massacre, Internet enthusiasts are continuing to search for any further clues which will ensure that he receives a lengthy prison sentence.

Breivik's manifesto can be found here at http://www.kevinislaughter.com/wp-content/uploads/2083+-+A+European+Declaration+of+Independence.pdf

The 12 minute video below was first uploaded to youtube by Breivik but was recently taken down due to the indecident nature it depicts. The video crudely outlines the bigoted principles and values of his manifesto, but reveals an even more disturbing image - a window into Breivik's insanity.

An unexpected couple of weeks

              Sayonara Mother Fuckers!

Jaysus, it's been bloody ages since I last posted on this site. To make a long story short the ads featured on this blog are no longer assessable because the dastardly bastards known as Google have cut me off from their precious Adsense. Basically I was on vacation for two weeks and was banned for "neglecting to produce any Shit-Hot posts". Ah well, ads or not this blog will continue to stay alive and prosper without the watchful eye of those Google commies. I will also attempt to post a topic everyday without the intent of making money.

        Chugging on the streets of Dublin

Let me make it perfectly clear that the term "Chugger" does not mean (in my case) someone who throws back a large quantity of alcohol to impress a crowd of drunken idiots. A chugger is actually a combination of a charity collector and a mugger. Whatever city you are in, you are nearly 99% likely of being stopped by a street fundraiser who will attempt to butter you up for the purpose of taking your bank details. Usually I would totally ignore them and briskly walk away thinking of how irritating and pathetic these people are. I have always considered these guys as scammers and actors who pry on vulnerable people and milk them of their hard earned cash. Not once have I tried to place myself inside a chugger's shoes and grasp what they actually go through... That was until I put my dignity to the side and became a full time charity fundraiser in Dublin.

Up until three weeks ago I have been desperately looking for a summer job. I handed out over 60 CVs and have applied for a countless number of positions across the web. Anyway, one morning while browsing jobs.ie I stumbled upon a fundraising job and out of sheer curiosity I ventured forth and opened the page. In the description it outlined that I would be working five days a week with a minimum wage of €350 + commission. Very much intrigued by the prospect of earning this much I filled in the application and was contacted for an interview the very next day.

During my interview I was led into a spacious conference room with around eight other candidates. A woman then asked us to describe the person to our left and talk about a charity of our choice. This was a basic strategy to reveal what kind of people we were and to see if we had the necessary social and persuasion credentials to fit the bill. I thought I did dreadful during the interview, but as fate disclosed I got the job. 

My first day seemed to go swimmingly. I used the training I learned in my induction to try and convince people that this particular charity was worth every cent of their money. For the most effective way of stopping someone you have to catch their eye at a distance and approach them using a ridiculously amount of energy and affection. We were advised to talk to people like they were our best friend and then use an informative, yet devious dialogue to render their heart strings. If the particular person showed even the slightest bit of concern or interest we had to put our acting skills to the test and persuade them fork over their bank account details. Usually you have to make three sales a day but since it was my first day on the job one sign up kept them happy.

At first I didn't really mind flagging people down and I kept myself entertained by coming up with all sorts of  things to get folks to stop and talk. One was introducing myself as Sarah; another was asking random girls to marry me and the most effective way was by mistaking people as celebrities. The majority of people who actually did stop were really nice and even if they weren't interested in donating anything they would talk to me about their lives and plans for the day. Those who didn't stop just completely ignored me and some even went to the extent of telling me to go fuck myself. I didn't take any negativity to heart though as I can completely understand how annoying it could be for someone who just wanted to walk down a street without being pounced upon.

After a couple of days on the streets I finally began to grasp the true meaning of what it was really like to be a chugger. I started to get annoyed with our "don't take no for an answer" policy. If a person stated that they didn't have their account details in their possession we were to follow them to their banks to retrieve an account statement.  If their bank was closed we had to ask the individual if they would ring someone who knew their payment details. If that wasn't conniving enough, we were instructed not to tell the donor that they would be signing up to a five year contract. A donation of 12 to 21 euros a month for five years would surely be a serious toll on anyone, especially in the economic mess Ireland is in at the moment.

Street fundraising is also a very unstable and stressful job, especially for someone who has to support a family or pay college fees. In the charity I was working for we had to get at least three sign-ups a day or else we would get the sack. There were guys in black suits monitoring us from time to time and if we didn't look motivated or up to scratch then they would approach us and tell us to go home indefinitely. After just one week of chugging, six out of the eight new people got fired. It was just me and one other dude left. One poor lad actually came all the way in just to be told to go home. We were later told that he was caught handing a CV into some store in town. I knew in my heart that my time was nigh and that any day now someone would catch me off guard and fire me on the spot. When I began to seriously think about this possibility I have to admit that I wasn't worried in the slightest. I was fed up with hassling people who were trying to go about their day and was sick of eating my lunch sitting on the edge of a dirty street. Yesterday morning I rang the head office explaining that this job wasn't for me. They didn't even ask for an explanation and coolly responded that I have to return any mandates and t-shirts that belonged to the company.

I will be seriously glad to leave that job behind me once and for all. If I learned anything from my short time working as a chugger it would be that a business is a business and a charity is a charity. Combining the two only gives a good cause a bad reputation.

The hardest time of my childhood!

Am I the only person here who had such a hard time completing this God forsaken temple? When I was only  10 years old I remember going around in circles for months trying to find a key that could unlock this door near the main entrance. What was so frustrating about this level was that every time you needed to go under water you had to press the start button and switch to your heavy metal boots and when you wanted to surface and walk around normally you had to repeat this process all over again. It was the biggest pain in the ass! I don't know why the Water Temple has implanted itself into my brain, but I have so many vivid memories of getting up early and staying up late just to look for this fucking key! I know it may seem dumb as hell now, but at the time completing this temple was really important to me. It was just something that had to be done. The curiosity of what was behind that locked door drove me insane and I knew that sooner or later I would eventually find out. I can even remember saving up my allowance for this weirdly shaped, blue N64 controller that had an automatic button in the centre.
At the time I figured that once I pressed this button, Link would independently move and complete the level on his own. When I did get around to pressing it, Link just repeatedly swung his sword around over and over again. I had just wasted £30!  One day, when I just so happened to be playing the game in my friends house, I unintentionally stumbled upon an unopened chest. My little heart jumped at the sight of this miraculous discovery and when I opened it there it was. That infamous key that had been the torn in my paw for over 3 months was now in my possession. The funny thing was that I don't even know what I did. It wasn't as if I had intentionally figured out some complex puzzle to make the chest appear. I must of just accidentely walked into the room it was in. Well long story short I opened the door and literally flew though the rest of the temple, despite my encounter with Dark Link. Sure, I had difficulty with some of the other temples in the game, but it was nothing compared to my ordeal in the Water Temple. It's funny how the simplest and virtually insignificant things in our lives can have such a long lasting impact. To this day I've never come across a game as poignant as Zelda: Ocarina of Time and I doubt I ever will.
For those unfortunate souls who have never gotten passed this temple, here is a simplified walk-through. God I wish youtube was around when I was a kid...


Alcohol + Weed = Pain!!!

So after a tumultuous night of enjoying a few drinks with some pals, we deemed it was in order to light up a spliff. Since my parents are not exactly cool with me doing drugs inside the house we departed to the outside world for a more peaceful and happy high.

                                   Let me set the scene...

Close to my home there is a long, dark stretch of woodland in between two housing estates. People rarely travel through this area at night and since it was pissing rain there was a sure chance that nobody would cross our paths. As we slowly made our way up this region, I felt the alcohol taking affect. My movements became very unstable and from a distance it would of looked as if I had cerebral palsy. Having a great time talking intoxicated bullshit with my friends we eventually lit the joint. As I inhaled I realised that the weed was really powerful and that it wouldn't take much to get the job done. Before I passed it on, I took one final pull and then ever so slowly exhaled the smoke from my lungs. My mind suddenly began to slip out of focus and the world rapidly deteriorated before my eyes. Before I realised what I had done, I collapsed and hit the path with such a force that my body became temporarily paralysed. When I became self-aware of my surroundings again, I started to uncontrollably laugh which in turn set my friends off. 
After they helped me up we decided to call it a night and go our separate ways. It was only after I got home that I realised I had a huge gash on my hand. Luckily I didn't need to go to the hospital to get stitches or a tetanus, but the task of cleaning the wound was very painful nonetheless. I know I sound like a scrawny punk that can't handle a bit of weed (I probably am), but it was the first time that I ever inflicted an injury under the influence of beer/weed. My advice to anyone who drinks or does weed is to use it sensibly and sparingly. 
Stay safe!



Summer Goals!

Schools out bitches!!  Like everyone else who is not a mentally challenged slob, I too plan on doing a shit load of things before the end of  summer vacation. So far I plan on going abroad, partying with my homeys, scoring a Playboy girl, making a tonne of cash and taking up the guitar. OK, so maybe pulling a Playboy girl is out of the question, unless you're Charlie Sheen, but does anyone really live up to their summer goals? If you do then fair deuce, but if you're like me then why is it so hard to carpe diem?
For example, today's a beautiful sunny day, but I cant do anything because I'm dying of a hangover and way too sleep deprived to go out. I feel like a zombie/mongo. I just wanna lie here and have someone spoon feed me on demand. My first genuine and vital goal is to get a job, and if that doesn't destroy my soul entirely, then, and only then, can I pursue the rest of my objectives. I'll keep you all up to date with my half-ass attempts on the "pursuit of doing stuff."
*I better go, the Church collection lady is at the door. I might just fill an envelope with buttons and give it to her.