Libido

Cocks and boobs immortalised in tiny soaps.  I have no idea where I got these from.

It’s really embarrassing to admit to this, but…

The Motherland

Hello.  I’ve returned from the Motherland.  How I wish it were the Fatherland.

Belfast was great.  It was lovely to have us (my siblings, anyway) all together for Orlaigh’s sixteenth, which I still refuse to believe has come to pass.  I spent not as much time as I would have liked to with my siblings since I also wanted to briefly catch up with my three remaining friends there.  On Friday, I nabbed free food at Paula’s work and spent the rest of the day watching rubbish TV with her (which always makes me happy) and playing with her black Tonkinese cat, imaginatively called “Cat”.  Given that my cats are called “Boy Cat” and “Girl Cat” (and Hobbes, who lives with Rob), you can see the poverty of original thought that exists in my family.

My little brother, Liam, was there before donning his rags (not so much “glad”, he’s a crusty punk with a pungent yet not unsettling aroma) and heading out.  I have never met someone who is so confident in his appearance as my little brother is.  He is, naturally, gorgeous, as are all my siblings.  He knows it, though, but it’s disarmingly charming rather than irritating.  He kept me up until five in the morning to show me photos of himself.  An actual quote from him was, “Stay out of that mirror, that mirror is all ME!” It was tongue in cheek, but only just. If I have Body Dysmorphic Disorder, my brother has some sort of inverse.

On Saturday I extracted myself from sleepiness in order to be a tourist in a warzone. I took my camera and my friend Stephen onto the Falls Road, my stomping ground when I was growing up, as I went to school there. The Falls Road is a working class, ostensibly left-wing Republican area, full of interesting political murals and daubings. My own politics- unsurprisingly, lie upon the far left, and I do correct those who refer to me as British, as I’m from Nationalist West Belfast and was raised with Republican ideology and the Irish language.

It felt quite strange taking photos of things that I used to see every day and think nothing of, but I always regret not doing so.  Here is an example; it’s one of the murals just past my school.

That mural depicts the Easter Rising (which is what Éirí Amach na Cásca translates to), and that building there is the GPO in Dublin, which was the site of the uprising against the British Army. It was unsuccessful, obviously, or else the “Troubles” would not have been.

For those interested in politics, murals, art, myself, Belfast and etc, I have uploaded a whole set of photographs that I took of murals, my old school grounds and my friend here at Flickr.  I am too tired at the moment but when I’m more awake I will write descriptions so you know what you’re looking at. For the extra nosey, I’ve uploaded two more sets- one of my sister’s birthday and one of photos of my old haunts in Belfast, featuring me holding some scones.  (I have been feeling especially hideous lately, but am putting these up for memory’s sake.  Please don’t poke the soft bits with sticks).

Readers!

 

Who are you?  Tell me a little bit about yourself.  Even if you don’t normally comment, and even if you do.  I know I’m toss at responding to comments but I do read them.  And I wonder where you’re all from.  Where do you live, do you like films, what’s your background, how has your day been?

It would be good to hear from you out there, in the great beyond.

I’m Seaneen, by the way, aged twenty seven standing four foot eleven inches high in my stockinged feet, , with a penchant for flamboyant men and equally flamboyant women.  My lifetime’s ambition is to out-sarcastic Charlie Brooker in a TV-watching competition.  My favourite films are the nigh on stock student response- Brazil, Withnail and I and Monty Python’s Quest for the Holy Grail.  I also love Bedazzled, the original Cook and Moore version, not the godawful Crazy Frog lookalike Brandon Fraser’s version.  I want to watch Gaslight again and I’m very fond of Blithe Spirit.  In general, though, it’s music, comedy and books that tickle my fancy and I really don’t have much to say about films.

Please carry on talking to me here so that I may be deliciously nosey about you all and compile a dossier about you on my return.  For all those suffering from paranoid psychosis out there, I mean YOU.