The Incredible Flying Irishman

Change Of Address

2010-02-26T00:52:00.000-08:00

This blog has been moved to its own spiffy new server and domain!

Find me at http://www.shanekitt.com

Hope you enjoyed TIFI as that name is no more unfortunately. It's just a boring old personal site now. But with extra Shane-ness.

Tis The Season To Be Gaudy

2010-01-01T19:33:00.000-08:00

Bah humbug, say I! The holiday season and all saccharine mock-charm therein is thankfully at an end. Oh how I hate the season with its tedium and near-mechanised traditions. Even peoples opinion of it has become infuriatingly ambiguous. If you claim to dislike the consumerism of it all then what's your moral standpoint for the remaining 11 months of the year? Do you roam the streets lamenting the decadence of the bourgeoisie and calling for revolution? The consumerism argument doesn't hold up too well either when people say they don't care about presents but like all the parties. When I last checked endeavouring to purchase alcohol, food and clothing makes you a consumer! We are all consumerist. Stop bandying about this redundant fucking term.

Even the most fundamental appreciation of Christmas is flawed. It has been said that the birth of Christ was sometime in June not December. However the Church was said to have moved Christmas to December in order to undermine the pagan celebration of the Winter Solstice. In fact, early Christians saw the commemoration of ones birth as a pagan custom. So if even Christians themselves didn't celebrate Christmas once upon a time why should I? There's one to think about.

The Incredible Flying Irishman Has His Wings Clipped

2009-12-20T19:22:00.000-08:00

Hello people I apologise for promising spoonfuls of delicious American goodness and then not delivering (or "serving you" to keep up the restaurant theme) but this bloggers international sojourn has come to an end for now. It's back to bad pub anecdotes involving misplaced - then subsequently found - coats and cutting political satire which will mainly take the form of me calling politicians silly names and pretending I know why I hate the EU. Yes it's back to business in the Motherland.

While I'm here I may as well tout my campaign to have a local, moderately famous Irish comedian run for the office of President of Ireland (almost worked for John Stewart didn't it?). Just go here and all will be revealed. It's a Facebook group so if you're one of those anally retentive "pillars of integrity" who regard the tedium of social networking as beneath them then consider yourself warned.

It seems the word "flying" in the name of this blog is effectively redundant now given I'm no longer residing in a place from which I would need to utilise air travel to return from. I'll keep it nonetheless because I think it's dead clever. I'll change the banner soon too. The current one is a bit "MS Paint"-ey. Buh bye now!

T.I.F.I. @ Gencon Brisbane

2009-09-21T04:47:00.000-07:00

I've been sitting in front of the computer for 10 minutes now trying to come up with a witty remark connecting my use of the "at" symbol above and the fact that this post is about Gencon - a veritable Mecca of all things nerdy. Although the Internet can hardly be called nerdy now can it? It's pretty much a pillar of world communication, commerce and lolcats (older readers: google it).

Scott, Jay and Myself: The geek shall inherit the Earth.

After perusing the stalls for something I could actually afford (someday, 300 Sword, someday) we decided to play a demo game of laser tag which explains the nifty little photo up there. I relish the chance to wield anything metal and phallic. Those laser guns are actually pretty heavy and have nifty little ammo counters and scopes and all sorts of faux-military shite. You would think I'm about to plug this company but I can't remember their name. It's past my bedtime so I'm not in a charitable mood anyway. Let's just say it's their fault for having such a forgettable business name.

People in costumes: Misfits or Misunderstood?

A staple of these gatherings is Cosplay, a hobby which involves dressing up in costumes inpsired by pop culture with an emphasis on Japanese anime. Some call it sad, others call it brave. I fall somewhere in the middle. I dressed up as Scorpion from Mortal Kombat for a Halloween party once and I loved it. Everyone was complimenting me on my awesome costume design (it was a few yellow rags tucked into black cotton sweatpants for the record) and I was voted the second best costume after Blanca from Street Fighter. He was a cool guy though so I didn't care. Here is proof:

Anyway Gencon is the goods if you're into sci-fi, fantasy, trading cards, tabletop, video and board games or any other staple of nerd-dom. Which I am. Damned proud of it too!

PS Sorry about the delay folks. Been a busy few weeks planning for my trip to.....*drum roll* the USA! I'll try my best to post every two or three days.

U.S.A. Special: Sneak Preview

2009-09-13T21:48:00.000-07:00

Today folks we take a short break from the land of Oz to tell you about another country....

AMERRRIIICAAAA!

In November '09 we will be going to the land of the free and the home of the Whopper. The Incredible Flying Irishman will be visiting no less than FOUR major cities in the old U.S of A. For three weeks I will try to post at least every two days assuming I can get my laptop and camera insured and/or bonded to my physiology like some sort of consumer electronics cyborg. I will be chronicling my adventures in the lovely cities of Los Angeles, San Francisco, New York and Miami. Mostly it will be posts about how big the portions are at KFC though.

Until then however I have much more Aussie goodness lined up. I know I have some American readers so if you could just go ahead and let Homeland Security know I'm cool you would be doing me a big favour.

The Irish and the Aussies: Are We So Different?

2009-09-11T01:47:00.000-07:00

I got to thinking the other day. No, I didn't hurt myself in the act. I pondered the key differences between us Paddys and our Antipodean brethren and found we share many similarities. While we differ wildly in other respects I believe those differences actually prove my point. In short Aussies are the Irish plus sunny weather. The following headings illustrate my theory nicely.

Alcohol

Australians love their drinking. Some people reckon they love it just as much as the Irish. This is both true and false. To us drinking and celebrating are the same thing. Be it a christening, a wedding or a Tuesday. One does not abstain from alcohol unless they are pregnant or on prescription medication that will make them literally explode should it be consumed with alcohol. The Aussies too love to celebrate with a drink and there is problem drinkers here too (like any country in the world) but the occasion is a celebration first and a piss-up second.

However there's a flipside to this. When Aussies go out to get drunk...hooo boy. Us Irish have deftly woven drunkeness into the fabric of society whereas for the Aussies there is a big distinction between having a drink and being drunk. That and we can handle our booze better than them. Haw!

Sports

When there is a huge sporting event on in Ireland, let's say the All-Ireland final in Croke Park, Dublin and whatever counties are playing literally come to a standstill. The streets and pubs are choked with fans for hours both before and after the game with the festivities continuing long into the night and frequently the next day. Cut to about 6 months later and it's rinse and repeat for our home games in the Six Nations.

The Aussie have so many professional sports teams and leagues that it gets very confusing for an outsider to keep track. Many find the idea of Gaelic games (gaelic football, camogie and hurling) players being unpaid and playing only on Saturdays and Sundays unthinkable. People get paid to play Netball here. Need I say anymore? Despite all this commercialism they have a fierce pride in their sporting endeavours that mirrors ours.

Recreation

This is one of those differences that is really a hidden similarity. It's no secret that in Australia they love being outside on a nice day. Barbeque grills are a must-have in many homes. The Irish on a typically Irish day will retreat into the warm, comfortable confines of the local pub or the living room (with drink). However, add warm weather and us pasty Celts bound into the distance wildly shedding clothes as if involved in some sick parody of a pagan sun dance. I have walked down the street in the Irish summer months spying at least five or six middle aged men wearing nothing but unflattering swimming trunks.

At least we have the common decency to at least try and get rid of the everpresent "T-Shirt Tan". I bet that if Ireland were continuously hot for at least six months almost all vandalism of public facilities would vanish. Primarily because we would actually be using them. With hot weather on our side we would morph into something similar to the Aussies. Drinking outdoors and eating unhealthy grilled food like the best of 'em!

Money

Everyone loves to get things cheap but nobody more than the Aussies and the Irish. This is where we truly overlap. Our wallets. From Cheap Arse Tuesdays to Garage Sales galore, Oz can't be beat when it comes to being a nation of tight bastards. Nobody in Australia has any illusions about what they can and can't afford. Apart from the major urban areas perhaps many live within their means. They relish the chance to find a bargain and it is perfectly socially acceptable (within reason) to take furniture left on the side of the road for the periodical city council pickup.

There is a subtle difference in our two cultures bargain-hunting however. While the Australian way is mischievous and charming, the Irish are just plain tight. There is no clever way to say it, we are tight bastards at the best of times. A packet of biscuits goes up by 5 cent and the consumer watchdogs are coming out of the woodwork. This was bizarrely offset by the recent economic success in Ireland which put money in the pockets of these penny pinchers. Yet they still think the biscuits are too much. What vindication the Economic Implosion* must be!

Well that's my theory in all its meandering glory. I hope I made sense. Yeah, I made sense.

* Implosion is a far more exciting word than 'downturn'. You know I'm right!

The Obligatory Lazy Post Where I Just Put Up Old Photos

2009-09-10T02:24:00.000-07:00

Well it's been a dry few weeks for TIFI so I decided that rather than lose momentum I would dig through the archives and find some pictures. Where to go from there is a mystery to me. I guess I'll add some funny captions or something. Pictured above is your heroes fateful origin in Australia. One of the first sightings and certainly not the last.

The Sydney skyline. I might have one of the Opera House but I'm reluctant to put it up because every bastard and his mother has a photo of the Opera House. It's unique in that it's the only landmark that looks pretty much the exact same no matter what way you photograph it. That's because there are only so many vantage points from which to picture it. That and it's a very unphotogenic and shitty shade of beige that doesn't look great during the day. Luckily this forward thinking blogger got a snap of it from a boat!

See? Even in the second one it looks just like the postcard. The bridge is longer than I thought though. There's a tour you can do where you climb the Harbour Bridge. It's called Bridge Climb imaginatively enough. I was all set to do it when I found out it costs about $400 for the full tour. The ferries are much cheaper and you don't have to put on a crotch-hugging safety harness to do that. Great view for a fraction of the price albeit not at a high altitude.

Ah yes the famous Aussie beaches. These particular photos were taken (no, not from a boat) from a lookout point up near the cliffs beside Bronte Beach in the affluent eastern Sydney suburbs. I have no pictures of Bondi before you ask because it's crap. There I said it. Perhaps the most famous beach in the world is shite. It's long and boring and full of drunk, heat-stroked tourists and tanned surfer types who only have good bodies because God felt bad for not giving them a personality. Bronte Beach is different. Despite the fact that I got caught in a wave and had to be rescued by a lifeguard it still rules. It has a separate pool for people with a justified mortal fear of waves which is still fed by the sea so it has no chlorine or heating system thus making it a ball shriveller when the Sun goes in. It's still great in the summer evenings to get in from work and go straight out for a swim ten minutes later.

That's all for now folks. Next time around I'll be doing Brisbane since I've lived here five times longer than I did in Sydney. As you can see I've now got the Twitter going on so um Tweet me as the kids say.

Disclaimer: Twitter is lame but for getting the word out about the blog it's good so don't judge me.

TIFI Goes to The Ekka

2009-08-28T09:53:00.000-07:00

It was recently suggested that I go to the Ekka to give TIFI a little more Aussie grunt. Since there was a free ticket going it was really a no-brainer for me. There's nothing better than a free ticket. If the event is enjoyable then you've gained something, if it sucks you've lost nothing. Well, financially anyway. Time can be lost and that's sad.

For those that don't know the Ekka is short for the Queensland Exhibition and is a annual must-do for all Queenslanders. It all started a hundred or so years ago as a humble agricultural festival that celebrated the very best in Aussie farming and livestock. Nowadays it has evolved into something more akin to a giant carnival complete with rides, advertising and over-priced refreshments. There are still the obligatory animals from little lambs (aawww) to lumbering llamas (aaahh!).

The Llama: Natures "D" student

I found myself going to the Ekka on a particularly sunny day albeit with a modest amount of cash. That's the thing about this place. You need a LOT of money to truly enjoy yourself here. I went on one ride (picture forthcoming) that cost me fifteen freaking dollars! Luckily my new favourite vice - after smoking and fatty foods - iced coffee was reasonably priced. Upon entering we headed for the Fresh Food pavillion in the hope of blagging some free eats. There was much to be had for nothing but because of the horrible crowds all I got was a taste test of hot chilli sauce on a cracker and a cherry tomato fried in some concoction of Italian herbs. To be honest it just tasted like a regular cherry tomato. We jostled our way through the droves of people once again as I was in search of some thrills! Oh and I also had some herbal tea.

Me getting strapped into the Intensity or Insanity or whatever it was called.

I'm not actually on it there but this is just to give you an idea of how bloody high this thing went.

As you can see from the pictures I will pretty much go on any ride there is. The scarier it looks the bigger the challenge for me. It wasn't always that way though. I was a bit of a pussy until very recently. For rides this country beats the pants off Funderland (travelling carnival that comes to Dublin every January) not least because here the rides actually thrill you rather than scare you and make you fear for your life. Since I had had my fill of excitement (and paying more than ten bucks a ride) we went off to get some ice cream and see the animals.

I just wanted an excuse to post this picture.

Ha! I knew I'd work that picture in somewhere but lest this blog get too low-brow I will swiftly move on. Actually I do have one more unsavoury anecdote up my sleeve. We entered the animal pavillion hoping to see lots of baby animals. As we walk in we spy a cow in a pen to our left lying on her side.

A cow. Not the one in question but a cow nonetheless.

Now this is where it gets a little... icky. The poor cows "back end" is bulging out considerably. I thought "Wow this is great! A little calf being born. The wonder of Nature and such." I stood there waiting for about ten minutes until I realised that if there were no vets about and cow labour lasts as long as human labour then I would be waiting for a while. So I decided to walk around and look at the baby chickens and lambs (sorry, forgot to take pictures) and get my picture taken with that horrible Llama thing you saw before (I was convinced the bastard was going to spit in my eye or something).
After about twenty minutes I decided to walk back and see how Big Momma Cow was doing. I walk back to her pen and find her standing up getting her nose patted by some kids. Not a sign of a calf anywhere. It was then that I spotted the modest pile of cowshit nestled among the straw. If it took more than half an hour for Mrs. Cow to make stool then I pity her.

So after my day of rides, sunburn and cow poo I was thoroughly spent. An enjoyable day but would have been so much better had I brought an extra hundred dollars or so. The Ekka is undergoing a huge renovation very soon so who knows what we'll see next year.

Just a quick message to thank those getting the word out about TIFI. Special Thanks go to my Mum for badgering me to write all the time, the folks on my Facebook and HondosBar.com who take the time to read TIFI and give me feedback. Especially Rachael who goes to Herculean efforts to spread the word about TIFI. Rachael also happens to make some great music and you can find her on MySpace at myspace.com/rachaellandmusic

Coming Soon: Stupid Twitter updates (the dirt won't come off!).

Brian McFadden Makes Me Angry

2009-07-24T06:40:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure why but the sight of this man makes me want to throw things at the TV. For those of you who don't know who he his here is a very short biography: Brian McFadden found fame in the Irish boyband "Westlife", left after a few years, met Delta Goodrem (an Aussie singer) and moved to Australia. He should now employ me as his official biographer as I did such a damn good job just there.

I have no qualms admitting it could just be simple jealousy. He's famous, successful and has a lot of money. It could be that he seems to play up his Irishness to ridiculous levels whereas I find myself using new Aussie slang everyday. My dislike of football could be at play here too as he is the host of a reality show called "Football Superstar".

Maybe I'm just pissy he's diminishing my novelty. I foresee a bleak day when people who have just heard my exotic brogue will no longer swoon and demand I say "Top O'the morning" for their voicemail recording but shrug their shoulders and say "Oh like Brian McFadden off the TV". Never!

I should be careful whose toes I step on in the Aussie show business though. One day when my writing here on TIFI shoots me to super-stardom (stop laughing) I may have to call in some favours from my compatriates. The conversation may go something like this:

Brian - "So you're the guy who shamelessly flamed me on the internet like a coward."

Shane - "Yes, sir. The very same. Could you say my name within earshot of important people?"

B - "I don't know. I may have to make you work for this privilege since I am a very famous and awesome man. Look at my floppy hair and perfectly grown stubble. Don't they mesh perfectly to paint the picture of a rogueish yet sensitive character?"

S - "Since the year is 2042 and you are getting on in years I'd wager that those fancy follicles of yours are nothing more than modern cosmetic chicanery."

At this point in our encounter Brian and I would probably engage in some sort of gentlemans duel involving muskets. My comparative youth would no doubt win the day as I would be able to keep my weapon steadier than Old Man Brian. Luckily for him however my musket would be loaded with nothing more than confetti. He would be unharmed but would have learned a valuable lesson. One that he would swiftly forget as he gently wet himself.

You have been warned Brian! Should we cross paths thirty three years from now, think twice about what you say!

T.I.F.I. Goes To Coffs Harbour

2009-07-06T07:05:00.000-07:00

Recently myself and the rest of the esteemed house decided to take a trip to the lovely Coffs Harbour in northeastern New South Wales. This is how I found out about the phenomenon of "Big Things".

Australia is known for many things: beautiful women, sunny weather, laid back lifestyle and a predeliction for cursing. Giant plastic flora and fauna, however, was not something I was aware held any kind of cultural significance. How wrong was I.

It all started weeks earlier when it was suggested we should all take a trip to Coffs Harbour to see the Big Slurpee. The prospect of seeing this wonderful thing excited me to no end so I agreed. I secretly hoped for some kind of Willy Wonka and the Slurpee Factory type affair where I could finally get my hands on some Sour Apple flavour Slurpee again.

It was only on the trip that I realised just how widespread this "Big" phenomenon was. The Big Prawn was my favourite given my love of those slimy little buggers. My attempts to scale the walls of the building and feast on its fishy greatness were thwarted, however, by a sore arse from hours of sitting in the back seat so I was content to just take a picture. After some faffing about and stretching we hit the road again and on to the wondrous Big Slurpee.

A few hours and a few stops later we arrived in Coffs Harbour and some unseasonably good weather. Our spirits high we set off in search of a feed and some entertainment. Several hours, a lot of junk food and a marathon game of Jenga later we climbed into bed to rest up for our day of awesomeness.

The next day we awoke, burned ourselves some breakfast and set off in search of the Slurpee. After a few hours of searching we came to realise a horrible truth:

The Big Slurpee was gone!

My dreams of some sort of Slurpee wonderland where it flowed in rivers and cascaded down huge waterfalls were dead. Nonetheless we soldiered on to a few other tourist attractions including the Clog Barn and the Big Banana.

A special mention should go to the Clog Barn as I received a free clog. They ran a little clog-making demonstration in the gift shop and when he was finished the clog maker offered the clog to the person who had travelled the furthest to be there. My girlfriend Megan, always the competitor, shouted 'Ireland!' while pointing to me. I suffered an internal conflict as I thought to myself 'Does it count if I'm Irish but living in Australia?'. Despite my dirty tricks I took my clog without question. The ill-gotten footwear sits on my shelf still.

We Will Resume Regular Service Shortly

2009-06-21T22:48:00.000-07:00

Evening folks!

Apologies for the lack of posts over the last few weeks. I promise to make a concerted effort to post at least once a week. I have two readers that I actually know about (you know who you are!) but just in case this blog is gathering some sort of underground steam ready to erupt in a maelstrom of screaming fans and letter bombs I feel I should reassure my potential (read imaginary) throng of frenzied devotees that I will be back soon.

Coming next week: The Incredible Flying Irishman does Coffs Harbour. Sees 'big' things.

Coming not-quite-next-week-but-a-good-deal-of-weeks-after-that: The Incredible Flying Irishman: U.S.A. Special!!! Uncle Sam won't know what him...

Australians Say The Darndest Things

2009-04-16T09:07:00.000-07:00

It's common knowledge that they speak English here in Australia but the extent to which they have modified it for their own devious ends is not. Here I present to you a survival guide for negotiating the conversational minefield of Aussie slang as well as some everyday terms and background info which could confuse the average Paddy:

Ride = Root (when used in the sexual sense)

Gaff = Place or house (simple enough but it gets better)

To go somewhere = "Rock up"

Pepper (vegetable) = Capsicum (This is an important one if you eat at Subway regularly)

Flip flops or sandals = Thongs (I'm as confused as you are here)

Thongs (underwear) = G-Banger (This is honestly not a joke)

Rugby league = Footy or football (Wait theres more!)

Aussie Rules = AFL or footy (see?)

Football = soccer but also well known as football (We go deeper into the rabbit hole)

Op-shop = Charity shop

Sleazy = Skeezy (Whats wrong with L?)

Ocker = Closest Irish term I can come up with is Bogger or Culchie except Ocker is used as an adjective.

Bogan = Untranslatable really. Equivalent to American "Redneck" whereby a "Bogan" wears 80's rock t-shirts (stained or dirty normally), sports a mullet or rat tail haircut, has living room furniture outside their house and usually walks around barefoot. Yes, people like that DO still exist in developed countries.

Ute = Pickup truck, short for "Utility vehicle"....I think.

Ford = "The Best Fackin' Cahs eva' made ya cunt!" A heated rivalry exists between Ford and Holden owners to such an extent that some people only ever buy one brand or the other for their entire lives. No, seriously.

Holden = An Australian car company. Look suspisciously like Opels and Vauxhalls. One model even looks like an Astra and is called....Astra! Case solved.

Cane Toads = The most horrificly disgusting animals ever. Considered pests and you are actively encouraged to run the bastards over.

Ranger (pronounced like "Hanger") = A ginger person. Comes from Orang-utan. Geddit?

Macca's = Mc Donalds. A lot of words here are shortened to just the first syllable followed by "-y", "-o" or "-a" e.g. Smoke break is a "Smoko", Registration for your car is "Rego", Tradesmen are "Tradies" and so on. That kills a fucktonne of birds with one stone.

Hungry Jacks = Burger King. I'm not exactly sure why this is. Some copyright stuff or something.

******

The Aussies could probably get some kicks out of this too now that I look at it. This turned into more of a full blown cultural guide about a quarter of the way in but to hell with that noise. That's what Lonely Planet guides are for. Even if they do say that the Irish people have "low self-esteem". Arseholes.

But for now I'm done. I'm sure there's lots more but I am very tired and I haven't been to bed before midnight for about 3 weeks now. Tonight is no different so if I can get to sleep before 3.30am I can call it a moral victory. I might do a follow up on this one in the near future as I'm shit at writing long diatribes and a list of definitions is much easier to do.

They always say go out with a laugh so here's a funny picture.

Irishman In Australia Marvels At Tall Buildings

2009-04-13T06:00:00.000-07:00

Yes that's right the buildings are really tall here and for my first ten minutes in downtown Sydney all I could do was crane my neck and marvel at how us little insects could build such incredible God-legs. Enough of that though.

So the great Celtic Tigers ceaseless roar has been reduced to a sad mewing noise. That's all I will say about the economic crisis in this blog. Ever. I'm sick of hearing about it. Seriously. I'm living here in Australia in blissful ignorance because of it. Now on to the trivial stuff. The kind of stuff I really like.

Many confusing things have happened in my fourteen months or so in this country. I have seen a thermometer at thirty-two Celsius on Christmas Day (a "cold" day for that time of year), clean streets with not a bin in sight, not getting more money for working on Sunday, supermarkets that don't sell booze and Coldplay.

I'm going to cut this post short because I just saw the video for the Pussycat Dolls latest song and their bastardisation of a great song from the Slumdog Millionaire soundtrack. I am now angered that society can't accept something original and different without "westernising" it.

Now this.

Food For Thought: If Stormtroopers can't shoot straight, how did the Empire manage to subjugate an entire galaxy?

"So I should aim AT the camera you say? It's all so obvious now!"
Gencon, Brisbane, August 08