Zelda Cunningham‘s fortnightly guide to the great and the grim.
Queen of Tarts
It is a stronger person than me who can resist the sweet and savoury tarts of this Dame Street tearoom. The irresistible scent of freshly baked scones and bread wafts out at you as you select which method of death by chocolate you desire, and what a way to go!
NCAD students have launched this monthly-fancy dress/indie/electro night in the Button Factory, much to the delight of those who harbour an inner-cabaret star within us. Last month’s patrons embraced the circus theme with gusto so keep an eye their MySpace page for details about the upcoming nights.
Gregg Gillis, the man behind Girl Talk will grace Whelan’s Lounge with his speciality mash-up of cheesy pop, rock and hip hop on 20th March. Blending the likes of Britney Spears, Air, M.I.A., David Bowie, Nirvana and The Velvet Underground in a so-wrong-its-right mesh of energetic pop, this is not a gig to be missed.
A sentimental blend of old-world charm and refinement, The Library Bar in The Central Hotel on Exchequer Street is the perfect way to relax in the city centre on a Saturday afternoon. Books, a warm fire, cosy couches and an abundance of alcohol on tap, just like at Grandma’s.
Seachtain na Gaeilge
Tír gan teanga, tír gan anam is all fair enough, but when you have people wandering around campus in that inexcusable shade of lime green saying things like, and I quote, “Eh, an bhfuil, eh, change of a fiver agat”, you really have to question if the revival of the language worth it.
You may know this would-be comedian as the twat who hurls abuse at people in wheelchairs and tourists in Temple bar, but now RTÉ has decided that he needs a forum to vent his spleen. Savage Eye is about as funny as a house fire, avoid, like people do McSavage at social events.
Its not that I have anything against transvestites, but considering he/she/the thing that lurks in the dark is infecting every set of speakers in the world, somebody needs to stand up to speak out. Her music is awful, and no amount of David Bowie make-up and Paris Hilton endorsement will change that… ever.
Formerly Bondi Beach Club, Burn has retained all the dignity and delightful social prowess of its predecessor. Drunken D4s and dazed culchies stumble around the dance floor, slurring the words to the latest Lady GaGa hit and groping each other. Haven’t we evolved past this?