Whatever’s doggin’ your troubles, Anto is here to folly yis up, reet
I signed up to all these banks in Fresher’s Week that promised all this free cash and stuff, but when I go to the ATM to withdraw money, they just like, don’t work. What should I do?
Get outta d’fuckin’ queue maybe?
I’ve been going out with this girl in UCD for about two years now. We’re both doing final year Arts at the moment but studying different subjects. Lately however, she’s been ignoring me whenever I call her saying that she’s “too busy to meet up” or that she “has this surprise lecture thingy”.
I decided to follow her one day with the intention of ringing her to go out. I literally saw here across the concourse rejecting me for lunch on her phone. She then called someone else and started waiting for whoever it was. Trying to be discreet about my personal investigation, I hid behind my car. After about ten minutes, she meets up with this young-blooded first year student. They then proceeded to go to the Restaurant together, so my suspicion was right!
However, as I was hiding, I noticed that the spoiler on the back of my car was leaning to the left. Is this something I can fix myself, or do I have to bring it to the mechanics?
Conor, car park
It sounds to me like that first-year’s spoiler is bang-on. Sort yourself out man, give it a whack o’ a hammer or sumthin. A car without a spoiler is like a bird that doesn’t put out, in your case.
I was recently man-handled by some brainless twits at the Boys Noize gig a couple weeks ago (ya know, your type). They claimed to be security but I don’t trust anyone who sounds six social classes below me.
Are there any ways I can appear to look as hard and scummish as them?
Reet, let’s get to Knacker 101. You wanna luck hard, ye gotta play hard (and I actually mean, play it).
To start off, lose the gear and chump yourself up with sum Trackers, runners, and the good aul’ Dax. After you put these on, buy yourself some Johnnie Blue and smoke them everywhere and anywhere. Next, you have to swagger like a turkey – dis throws people off balance in their heads, so they don’t know which way you’re cumin. Afta dis, ye permanently scrunch your face up, as if you were watching Ronaldo shite on your mudder’s chest – it’s a mix of shock and contention. Give dose securdiddy dis at the door an’ they’ll probably let you in for free.