What happens at the Comm Ball stays at the Comm Ball….except Herpes. That stuff will follow you home.

Well girls and boys weren’t we lucky this week with opportunities to put on pretty dresses and suits and pretend we’re respectable people. That’s right it was the wonderful time of year for The Comm Ball. For Commerce people it is the highlight of the social year…for non-commerce people, it is a great opportunity to slag Comm heads for actually believing it’s the social highlight of the year. It is fun though….I think? I’m not sure. I don’t really remember.

This year the people over in Commerce Society HQ (*I’m imaging they work in some sort of evil manor on top of a creepy hill cackling with insanity from all the power*) went for a Vegas theme for the ball. Oh viva las Vegas…or well Viva las Rochestown to be more precise. This theme I must say was carried out with great detail. From blackjack tables to questionably gendered and skimpily dressed she-males to a woman with a snake wrapped around her, the theme was definitely in place. Oh, and if you hadn’t figured out the theme was Vegas by this stage you’re an idiot and you deserve to read my blog. Be gone! The most obvious clue to the theme was our tickets being poker chips…as I said if you hadn’t figured things out by now…seriously just leave.

Bowels full of hallucinogenic goodness.

Now to the most important thing; the drink. Yes, there was drink. Drink was drank and drinkers became drunk. It’s quite simple really. And boy did we get drunk. Firstly we were greeted with a champagne reception; which was all terribly eloquent. Granted the majority of champagne drinkers struggling to balance the glass and the naggins hid in various places across their bodies made the reception slightly less fancy…but only slightly. Then throughout the dinner wine was a-flowing and we were a-drinking. This of course helped enhance the flavours of our meals and the interest in our company and all in all make the meal a great success. Then we hit the motherload of complimentary drinks at this lovely ball of ours. The fishbowels. Now to those who are unaware of what fishbowels are if not just to act as a home to your pet goldfish; fishbowels are large bowels of potent cocktails who’s sole purpose in life is to brutally massacre any sense of dignity and/or ability to speak. Mission accomplished fishbowels. Mission accomplished. So yes upon arrival of those bowels we, being the lovely dressed up ladies and gentlemen that we were, immediately stood up and turned what should be a casual cocktail into a downing race of epic proportions. Then we repeated with two more bowels….then things get terribly hazy. Funny that.

So yes the Ball was a great success. An opportunity to look at everyone all dolled up (and creep on the beautiful boys in suits) and converse with all your classmates in the closest we’re ever going to get to a Vegas casino. Inevitably people will have exchanged words that will regret the following morning, swapped salvia with some questionable choices and if you were terribly unfortunate, complete a walk of shame the next morning complete in ball gown and hickees.

Now in case the title of this ball confuses you there is a reason behind it. The Comm society for all their merits in throwing a great party shamed us all with their truly terrible tag line. ‘What happens at the Comm Ball stays at the Comm Ball’. Just typing that is embarrassing. We know full well what happens at the Comm Ball will be gossiped, joked about and tagged in photographic evidence the following morning. What happens at the Comm Ball will follow you around like those bad hickees you let that girl from your economics class give you. Deal with it. And heck, if you’re lucky enough to be final years you can try to just avoid said vampire girl for the rest of your remaining days. Good luck with that!

(Don't say you haven't been warned: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nre-qydGY44 )

But yes to conclude; we had a ball……… (*oh that was a terrible pun. Forgive me.)

God, I've heard about those cults Ted. People dressing up in black and saying Our Lord's going to come back and save us all. No, Dougal, that's us. That's Catholicism.

I must say UCC Ultimate Frisbee Club I take my hat off to you…and then probably throw it over in a fast spinny way so that you can catch it and further prove your Frisbee talents. The reason for this dedication is not because I have developed a sudden love for throwing objects at people and finally found a club which welcomes this with open arms (they have to have their arms open really, how else would they catch those darned things) but because the other night UCC Ultimate Frisbee Club put on one hell of a show. I attended a Father Ted themed quiz round in UCC’s Old bar (or the ‘New’ Old bar as they are now called because of their recent renovations….but come to think of it the New bar has even more recently been renovated so does that send the ‘New’ Old bar back to being the Old bar once again? My head hurts. I’m blaming the bar formally known as the Old bar and all it supplies for this one.) But yes, my point; I went to a Father Ted quiz.

There was something about this quiz that really impressed me, in fact there were many many things about this quiz that impressed me. This club really put a lot of effort into their night and it was clear it wasn’t a night that was thrown together like ‘Right Friends quiz…6 rounds, 1 round on each character, book the old bar, grab a box of celebrations for the prize, right we’re good to go.’ No no, this club put far more effort into their organization. (Granted I have a minor criticism which I will get to later so Freisbeer’s I will warn you when to look away). It was clear the organizers of this quiz really had a bit of fun with this one from their fancy dress theme to prizes referenced in the show. Also the bar was terribly packed to the extent that additional answer sheets were needed and heck nothing like a bit of competition to get the blood going. This I used as an incentive when rallying up friends to come along to the quiz texting them motivational quotes like ‘LETS LICK SOME ARSE!!!! I mean KICK SOME ARSE!!!’

So yes the content of the quiz itself was good. It was tough, even for I, a self proclaimed ted enthusiast with some horribly difficult questions like name Fr. Dick Byrne’s entry into a ‘Song for Ireland’ and what was on the bedstand in Ted and Doughal’s room (besides the Pope John Paul II clock, of course) see I liked these questions because they were tough. To quote the quizmaster ‘they separated the men from the boys’ and that they did. What I didn’t like about the quiz content (*Frisbee people if you have indeed taken time to read this…look away now) was the excessive repetition from the same episodes. My word was there a heck of a lot of questions from the pilot episode ‘Good luck, Father Ted’. A Christmassy Ted too popped his head up quite a bit with not one question about Rudd Guiltt sitting on a shed. And you know what I wouldn’t have minded a dash of inquisition as to whether or not Father Jessop took the new road or went round by Southern Yemin. That said I’ll forgive the quiz for their spirit was terrific. (Theres a little taster below for you)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0Bn0wFvEJow

Let’s get to the good stuff. The organizers dressed up. That alone was fantastic. Granted dressing as a priest is not the most difficult thing in the world but hey, I don’t see any wrong commending this. I especially appreciated one chaps initiative to cut his red jumper into a sweater vest and ta daa, an uncanny Fr. Doughal is born. (*Lazy people please take note here for next year Halloween costume ideas.) Then there was the fancy dress competition. Now not too many partook in this probably because Halloween festivities are so recently finished but still some people made the effort. The winner was a convincing and deserving Mrs Doyle (complete with mole )but my personal favourtie were the two Pete Sampris’s; that were rabbits dressed in tennis gear….cause you know Tennis Rabbits the whole connection there. Actually now that I type this I’m not sure were the two rabbits Pete or was one just a Rabbit which would make him Eamon? (That beaut Doughal backed at the Dog turned Rabbit track…hmmmmmm….anyone who knows please comment on which he was). Then there were the fantastic prizes; an I. SHOT J.R top being one and the other, the prize which possible made me fall in love with Frisbeers forever, was….a cake jumper!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Whoever made that cake jumper, I salute you! That was fan-fudging-tastic.

There was also a lovely girls contest in which the girls with lovely bottoms were subjected to walking around cones and a lovely laugh contest. All of which was almost tear inducenely funny. The only way this could have been better was if the winner won a dinner for two with which she must bring the host of the contest with her…oh and of course, she’ll be paying. Then there was the contest for worse team. This contest consisted of calling up a member of each of the few worst teams onto stage (*Whom we also noted had the worst names…probably some sort of correlation between Ted knowledge and an appreciation for good team names there) and getting them to partake in a blindfolded sandwich making competition. Brilliant! Our team member Mary (who was a complete stranger that we recruited for the night…great laugh) suggested that someone should cut the sandwiches into the shape of airplanes. I think if somebody managed to do this blindfolded they deserve a statue erected in their honour in the bar formally known as the Old Bar.

If only we knew what he wanted to dress as...!?!

So yes, who doesn’t love a good quiz! What we do note however is that the spirit of quizzes is kind of gone out the window as those popular iTelephones came in. See it’s far too easy these days to google answers and taking away the challenge of the quiz in the first place. Granted this wasn’t the case for this quiz as the answers such as what foreign sportsperson/ entertainer Doughal would like to dress as would be quite hard to find online but say, googling the capital of a country would be a piece of jumper cake!

So yes all in all the quiz was good. Real good. Clubs should take note from Frisbeers in their future attempts to organize. They know how to throw a party! (you get it...throw....like a frisbee...its funny right!?!)

Honourable Mentions:

I may be a fan. 

Yes there are some honourable mentions here as one of my team mates feels we may have been robbed in the Best Team Name competition. Although the winners who’s name was the politically incorrect and I’ll probably get in trouble for typing this; ‘Protestants touch children too’ received great reaction from the crowd it is felt amongst our group that true Ted enthusastis would appreciate more referenced names and were quite upset upon ‘St Lukes Youth Group’ not even getting a shout out. Forshame. (I knew we should have went we ‘I’m not going to America to umpire drive by shooting competitions’. ) If anybody has any team name suggestions ye feel would go down a treat, please comment them below so I can steal them and pretend their my ideas. Much appreciated. 

Isn't it awfully easy to stalk...

It really is terribly easy. This topic has come to mind having completed a social media bootcamp today. Thankfully we didn't have to do push-ups while holding twenty desk-tops on our backs or any bootcamp like business in that sense (*thank heavens, the most I can push up is probably an embarrassing eighteen desktops which just wouldn't have made the cut. ) But yes having looked at all these media tools I couldn't help but think, gee wizz the internet makes it easy to stalk.

The most obvious example of this is the fact that you're reading my thoughts right now. This is basically an online diary which I'm inviting you to read. Why am I doing that? Well its for a class project, otherwise I don't think I would. Its just a bit odd to me. I've read the funny oneliner  'Man Anne Frank would be pissed if she knew everyone read her diary' and I quite think theres a point there. Hell if I was Anne Frank I'd be pissed. I'd also be pissed at the living in an annex, being brutalized, enslaved and eventually murdered by the Nazi's, having only one boy my age around to throw eyes at and all that jazz, but hey the diary part is quite annoying too.

See the internet is a place where you can create a name for yourself or not. It's made great stars out of some people but its also a place where you can be put without your knowing. About 10 months ago or so my friend Sean stumbled upon something that he found curious. It was a video of two girls working in an icecream shop dancing to the music as they closed up. Not the most curious of videos you would think except Sean, knowing that icecream shop all too well and instantly recognizing one of the dancers as one of his oldest (and I'm going to be cocky here and say dearest) friends. Thats right, I was in the video. So there I was dancing away on youtube unbeknown to myself. Currently resting at 269 views, to which 20 or so I can attribute to Sean and I,  means 249 people have sat in what I can only assume was their underwear on a Sunday night watching my pathetic attempt of dancing. See the internet is creepy. Granted people in the outside world are creepy too. In particular those people who stood across the road from Murphy's Icecream that night recording Sandra and I dance. Yes they are also creepy.
 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XITK9ip-guw&feature=related

Then there are things like tweeting and that malawrky. I am going to be brash here and just say it; I don't like Twitter. Hopefully a giant bright blue 2D bird doesn't come and attack me before I finish this post now but yes. It's not for me. Have you read about the couple who as they were about to have their marriage confirmed at the alter, paused for a moment for the husband to tweet it. I'm telling you that husband would be seeing a lot of lonely nights and a sudden increase in the strength of his right hand if he was to even consider doing that on my wedding day. What was he thinking!?!! Really?

Then there's Facebook. Oh Facebook you are to creeping what water is to the sea. You really are the icing on the cake in the land of the creeps. Facebook, while great for all it's social networking attributes, can be at times just that step away from lurking outside someones bushes with camouflage makeup and a pair of binoculars. I feel so strongly about Facebook stalking that I believe it should be saved for another day but lets just say this. People put alot of their lives up on Facebook and can choose who they share these glimpses of their lives with. But do they choose who those 'friends' of theres share it with. I'm not a fan of Facebook stalking and never have been. If a friend was away on holidays its likely I'm not going to know what country they were in regardless of their constant status updates...
 'Got my tickets to Turkey...'
 'On the way to the airport can't wait for Turkey'.
 'OMG Turkey is soooooooooooo nice. Everyone should come here.'
 'Overdid it on Turkish food. Such a great Holiday.'
 'I miss Turkey soooooo much.'
' This time last week I was in a pool in Turkey :'( '
 'Hey everyone pictures of Turkey are finally up, LOLZ'

...which means it's pretty much guaranteed I am not going to look at said photos of...where did she go again? (*Now I'm not saying I don't use Facebook and have a poke around, I do. I love it. In fact I'm on it right now. It's just I don't care to creep all that much....maybe if someone says 'Have you seen X's tattoo of a rainbow on his forehead, its his new profile picture' then yes I will go look at my friend X..who I will forever more call Skittles and try to lick his forehead to 'taste the rainbow' but that aside I don't facebook stalk). Now that that is said the point I am making is people do stalk and I have partaken in stalking activity which has made me all the more aware of this. A friend of mine who's name I shall leave out for privacy reasons (you know who you are) is ridiculous for stalking. Every minute of every day is spent clicking through a baking conventions' dozen of photos of that person they barely know. (Which means she probably doesn't know who she is as she probably won't navigate away from Facebook long enough to read this) It wasn't until one night when I was shown a photo of someone so that I could place a face with the name was I a member of a 'creeping session'. Basically what started as one look resulted in looking through every single photo of this unsuspecting chap. This was all fine, albeit a little weird, until I met mister unsuspecting chap on campus. The thing was I never met this lad in my life, we were to one another what should be perfect strangers.....except we weren't. Thanks to the openness of the internet, this girl walking past him to whom he didn't acknowledge knew his name, age, what course he did, how he knew her friend, where he went on his J1, what instrument he played, where him and his friends went out in Cork, what apt blocked he lived in...basically everything about him. This freaks me out a little as I walk through campus thinking I might take a leaflet of someone to who should be a stranger when she in fact knows everything about me.......and thats just plain creepy.

Yes the internet is a very strange place full of very strange people. That said, if you're one of those strange people, heck you're in for a treat. Enjoy creeps. Stalk us proud!!!!