Failing final year? There's a tip for that!

I recently saw a status on Facebook trending that said the following:

‘Please copy and paste this to your status if you are, or know someone who is or has been affected by an FYP..! An FYP affect the lives of many. There is still no cure known for those with an FYP, But we can raise awareness..! 70% of final year college students won't c the light or day this rag week..!! :( FML ‘

For those of you who may not be aware of the lingo us cool kids use these days:

FYP: Final year project

RAG WEEK: Raise and Give Week; a week dedicated to fundraising for charities most commonly associated with general mischief and merriment.

FML: Fudge my life (Well…the less polite equivalent of fudge)

Now there you go, you’re up with the lingo and down with the cool kids doggio. Word. Dude…Am that was…rad?

So yes as a final year student I have many final year student friends and do I feel for them. The stress of knowing this is your final year in the wonderful playground of substandard accommodation and excessive partying that is college is almost over. And wait! Whats this? You’ve spent four years in college and forgot one minor tiny little detail…you’re supposed to do college work in college! Oh dear, how did that one slip by you? What are you going to do now? How are you possibly going to squeeze four years of advanced chemical engineering into preferably two 40 minute study sessions and somehow come out with a project that successfully fakes a genuine passion for your subject?

The dreaded final year project that looms over so many of my friends and people I kinda sorta know is a terrible thing. I too have many work loads in many different subjects but the difference here is I have been working away in a very dedicated fashion since October. (Carol, please look away here). Ok that’s a lie, I have not, but I just am calm and collected enough to not let the stress of it all get to me. Its called laidbackness…or ignorance. Whichever you prefer.

(You may look back now Carol)

So yes, how can I help all you poor misfortunate final years through your hours of need. F.Y.P deadlines are a mere two weeks away and you’ve never even heard of Tchaikovsky let alone know how to write your own musical piece that resembles his style with a Mozartian overtone (*I have no idea if that makes any sense….apologises Music majors). I think the best way to help you is to break the tips down by generalised subject groupings. If you’re fyp does not apply to one of these please comment and I’ll make something up on the spot…ahm, I mean advice you with appropriate and educationally stimulating suggestions.

BIS/Computer Science: Oh you computer geeks, ahm I mean intellectually advanced in the technological sector you do have it tough. How oh how to get through all this coding? What I suggest is that you pretend to have invented PacMan and just send them a link to a free online version of Pacman. Your correctors will be so entertained playing PacMan they won’t care what you say or do after that. Bonus Points available for pretending that the day Google put Pacman as their homepage was your idea.

Oh that ole thing? Ya just something I threw together last week in the labs.

The Sciences: Sciences you have it tough. Your strength is supposed to be your academic abilities and without that well….g’luck! So how is an apathetic science student supposed to get by during these tough time? Well you can go two ways with this one:

A)      Pretend you’ve suddenly become part of some extreme religious following that doesn’t believe in science. Hey! They can’t fail you for your beliefs!

B)      Pretend to go blind whilst finalizing your project. I don’t care what your project is. Even if its measuring different sized conical flasks, you’ve gone blind. Got it? You’ve sacrificed your sight for science, guaranteed 60-65% at least. To make this extra convincing get some sunglasses borrow someones golden retriever for a day or two. I have one if you need it. Her name is Lucy. She is adorable. Don’t actually follow here around though; you’re likely to play with traffic. Also don't take advantage of the act. I want you to be blind only in the Kane building. Lets not be offensive here guys!

You now are a member of the Church of the flying Spaghetti Monster:
He does not believe in the laws of physics.

Arts: Arts, you are a hard bunch to generalize due to the 15 million subject choices you may be studying. Also you are not suffering from F.Y.P syndrome but merely dissertation disease. Now I have one word that will help you with this lil inconvenience. You ready? Better get a pen to take it down….Wikipedia. Go knock yourself out!

Law: Law students for you I personally recommend going Jerry McGywer on the examiners asses and in your answers just write ‘You can’t handle my answer!!!’. Afterwards make sure you all go and celebrate in your unisex bathrooms with a few gingerales and snails. (Yes my law knowledge extends as far as Ally McBeal and the occasional first year lecture in Tort.)

Engineering: Oh dear its fourth year and you’ve managed to forget that minor issue of creating a building from scratch or whatever it is you do. Now I have offered helpful hints and tips to all the rest, bit your tip will be my masterpiece.  Do what you’ve been doing for the last four years and copy someone else’s work. You’re welcome.

Don't always trust the clogs you get.

Medicine: I’m not helping you as I like to think our future doctors will be competent. I intend on doing many stupid things in my future and will be coming your way. See you then! ;)

Pharmacy: Offer the examiner that special drug you’ve been working on on the sly. Then slip them the Viagria and have your camera at the ready. Bribery can do wonders for a gals career!

Commerce: Ah commerce, we do have it tough. I mean the intentions to do our fyp was always there but then we go and get distracted by our reflection in a mirror and boom! It’s March! And to think we were really looking forward to doing that extended risk management in retail supply chain management with a nice poster campaign on top. Dratts! But hey priorities are priorities and overall we made the right choice. Just look at how pretty we are! Right, damage control. We’ve two options:

A)      Flirt with a masters student to do the work for you. I’d highly recommend building your character based on heroic figures such as Cher from Clueless. If you’re male this tactic may not work as well but hey, it’s worth a shot!

B)      Regardless of major choice write a brief piece proposing Micheal O’Leary should create a company that provides ‘post-its and Gü chocolate pots’, go on go mad and throw in a demand curve while you’re at it.

Oh Micheal! What will you do next!?!

So there you have it, expert advice from somebody clearly not qualified in any way and has been practicing her best ‘ditzy commerce student’ act for four years with no success and only a handful of restraining orders. If I excluded your course don’t hesitate to ask for advice. I’ll be happy to reply, sure its not like I’ll be doing any college work! 

Give yourself a break!

Apparently some lad got his nose bitten off in Havanas Tuesday night. That is what has inspired this latest entry. Now I don’t by any means doubt the phenomenal Chinnese whispers that surrounds this piece of news and I have no idea, nor do I want to know, the reasons behind this, but it does make you think about the injuries that one endures on a night of painting the town all sorts of red. Blood red if you will… (Too soon?)

Students in general are a mighty resilient bunch. I mean look at us go! The bruises, scrapes and bumps we awake with are like medals of honour that are then paraded in front of our troops of friends in a bid to see who’s got the worse. How having the dodgiest looking bruise is seen as a form of accomplishment I don’t know, but heck what do I care…I’m great at it!!!

It’s amazing to think how ruthlessly cruel to our bodies we really are. Isn’t it bad enough we poison it from the inside out with concoctions of wine and tequila before we even consider going out. Why must we decorate it with gapping wounds too? But sure we do for we are students, we get joy from jumping around like mad ejitts and think downing a bottle of Buckfast constitutes as a casual drink, sure it’s not wonder we get hurt so often. And boy do we think it’s funny when people get hurt. Perhaps its some physiological trait deriving from our survival of the fittest notions but we really love it when others get hurt. Many a night spent around the Hillbilly’s fountain has been spent watching whichever Corkonian Tarzan has climbed said fountain waiting for him to fall over. Normally we hide our secret hopes of him falling very well though and cover it with chants of ‘FALL FALL FALL!’. Perhaps subtlety is not our strong point.

Doesn't quiet have the same effect when his name is Seamus from Ballyvourney

On the bright side it matched my nail polish...

On a personal level I feel I have accomplished a lot to help aid the ever struggling health professionals of the world clocking up an impressive repertoire of broken toes, ankles and collerbones. And for all the downs of falling down, it does have its ups too; those crutches lying along side my bed are great for reaching the cardigans I keep high up on my closet and that sling of mine also acted as a handy aid for sneaking cheeky naggins into bars. See its fun to be innovative with injuries! My most recent of injuries treated me to a sexy cast to my knee for a few weeks, and although it forced me to arrive to college panting and sweating and I may have even struggled through a digital marketing presentation whilst standing only on one foot to only go to A+E immediately after (Yes Carol, that is commitment right there.) it does have it’s ups. The following weekend I went on a weekend away with UCC Surf Club and hey when you have surfers offering to carry you everywhere…it would be rude to say no! :)

So why do we do it to ourselves? Why not just stay in and read a bloody book rather than jumping on tables and riding around in trolleys? Who knows? Perhaps it’s a mating call of sorts. He who attracts the most attention via injuries gets the most student nurses numbers. Hey, if it works for you than why not! Hmmmmmm I wonder if I work on my damsel in distress act I might get me a doctor? Sure I'll a crack at it (get it...like a cracked bone...oh I'm too much!) 

And for the record this complete and utter reckless treatment of our bodies in not something specifically occurring in the regions of Cork. It’s not like theirs something in the water around here (If anything it would be the substitution of water with vodka that may be a cause..) but it is a world wide activity. The group ‘Unknown Drunken Injuries’ on Facebook has 1,181,655 fans. Yes child rejoice for you are not alone! And when I say rejoice I mean smile to yourself or at most give your self a subtle clap on the back…for GODS SAKE DON’T GO ON THE LASH!!!

But you're probably going to ignore my advice continue the adding of scars to your collection. Well if thats the case here's a little tune to get you through tomorrow morning. (I personally enjoy the 'I increasingly think I broke my leg'.) http://www.collegehumor.com/video:1924835

Look what my horoscope said today...

Harsh Mr UCC Express Horoscope Man. 

Real Harsh. 

Procrastination: The laziness of tomorrow...today!

Procrastination is a marvellous thing...she says as she begins to write her latest blog entry, then stare blankly at some terribly movie on TV, then reconsiders if procrastination is a worthy enough blog entry. But yes it is. I said beginning this that I intend to write about the things students face and my god do we face procrastination head on, then decide facing it head on is too much effort so take a sit down and promise to face it tomorrow.  

Why debate the evolution of species when there are far more important issues on hand?

It is amazing to think we are supposedly the learned folk, scholars who spend their days musing over the wonders of the world and how we can improve it. However personally I think watching Murder She Wrote marathons and discussing in depth best hot chicken roll fillings is a far greater spending of time. Well, perhaps not greater use of time, but more likely. There are many types of procrastinators and I hope to describe a few of them to you...before I get distracted by something shiny.

1)      The ‘Talker’: The talker is your regular library goer except manages to successfully spend a 3:1 ratio of time talking about work needed to be done rather than actually doing the work. The talker is characteristically the type who seems terribly busy at all times, rushing from desk to desk as they explain to their friends how much work needs to be done. I have a friend who is a talker, everybody does. You know who they are. If you have been interrupted reading this by a friend who barely takes a breath to explain to you how they have more work than everybody in the entire college combined then you most definitely have a talker. And my friend who is ‘A talker’, nice to see you’re reading.

Oh well, its 1:00:01...can't go back till 2 now.

2)      The ‘On the hour’: I’m quite a fan of the on the hour principles towards procrastinating. They are quite simple really. Things must only be done on a regular time frame, that is one can only take a break at an exact hour, none of this going at ten past 2 business. However, although you may think this is someone who is organised, controlled and committed to their studies you would be wrong. VERY WRONG. The ‘on the hour’ (o.t.h.) procrastinator is brilliant in that their system allows them to perfectly justify their lack of work. ‘We’ll go back to study at 3’ the o.t.h will say to his friends, ‘Whats this? Ooops! Its 3:02. Oh well, we’ll have to wait till 4 now, thats the rule!’

3)      The ‘Getting Organised’: I think everybody engages in a spot of ‘getting organised’ procrastinating before approaching any task, well everybody except the organised folk that is. The getting organised devote a good day of ‘studying’ towards buying folders, taking a break, making labels, taking a break, discussing how much needs to be organised with fellow ‘getting organised’, take a break, chronologically organising notes into appropriate folders then freaking out when you realise you accidentally missed lectures November-February, and so another two days must be put aside towards tracking down said notes and photocopying them.  Its tough for the getting organised, they feel so proud after their two days of organising that they fail to realize how little actual work they have completed.

4)  The Hangover induced procrastination: Too hungover to study procrastination consists of one convincing oneself  they wouldn't get any work done in their state of pure unexaggerated pain and so it's pointless even trying to accomplish anything that day except pizza ordering and discussion of who mated with whom the previous night. A common phrase to watch out for with this student is 'No. I'm ACTUALLY dying'  It should be noted these students do try and convince others of their promise to start working tomorrow. Unfortunately the irresistible lure of four euro naggins prove too much and this procrastinator will spend weeks on end with the same excuses repeating itself in a vicious cycle of shots and sympathy. Thankfully one with which I've never fallen into (*cough cough)

Oh Dick, what will you do next!?!

5)      The ‘T.V watcher’: “I’m definitely going to start that Philosophy essay......as soon as Diagnosis Murder finishes. What? It’s a ‘to be continued’ episode? Well I have to see what happens to Dick Van Dyke and the gang don’t I! “says the TV watcher. This argument may be valid; after all it’s only two hours. However as you just plan to leave to finally go plagerise the hell out of Socrates and the lads you see that 'Come Dine with Me' is starting and once you start watching that it is your moral obligation as a tv watcher to find out who wins the all important (yet measly amount) £1000 prize, there goes another five hours. The tv watcher has many tools to aid its procrastination. Downloading and diving into entire series of  programs online is one thing, but it is those who manage to avoid weeks of study on end using only the basic channels of RTE 1, RTE 2,TV3 and TnaG are the true masters of this art. Anyone who avoids that project using only Aifric and Fair City as your justification, well you my friend have earned my respect.

Of course there are many many methods of procrastination that can be employed tactically by any student committed enough to the cause, however as a self-proclaimed procrastinator discussing these in further detail would be far too contradictory. I like to think I have mastered a wonderful balance of many of the methods above and so have tailored the month long gap since my last post to compliment this posting. Yeah...bet you didn't see that coming. 

Now, to put you in the mood to absolutely fudge all here's a nice lil song for you.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3FZtN7T5PXM

Transport: What a difference a day makes.

The transportation system is something on which we rely. It does more than just take us from A to B, but instead takes us from A to iBiza and C to Donegal whilst ensuring one need not put a foot on the ground in the process. Yes it is true the transportation system has evolved wonderfully and with its timetable precision apps, ‘when’s my bus’ texts and online book-ins this system has used social media and it’s marketing to it’s fullest to ensure service is of only the highest quality. One would have to be an idiot to complicate their journey. This is where I come in. Hi I’m Paula and I’m a traveling idiot.

It is true I do suffer from the idiotic gene in most aspects of my life, but its symptoms show up stronger in some areas than others. These areas include remembering names, pronunciation of words, knowing when jokes are inappropriate and, of course, transporting myself from A to B. Now I’m not putting full blame of the latter personal fault on the transportation system itself, I am very much to blame. Even in walking from A to B I will inevitably be distracted by talking to companions, stopping for chocolate and/or seeing something shiny. Transport is difficult for the easily distracted.

In regards to commercial transport I have, in the space of a day, lost faith in any humanity behind their systems. Ok, that is a bit extreme but I did have a terrible day. So for all the ‘pleasant journey’ Bus Eireann adverts and Air Coach’s offers of a luxurious service all I can think is what a load of…(*must not use offensive language)….lies. Yes they lie. Now as a Marketing Major I understand that these companies do not lie in spite of the consumer and it is an integral part of their job to communicate their company as positively as possible, but with services so shocking I struggle to see how their marketing managers manage this. So yes what a difference a day makes…

…one Friday morning I awoke happily in anticipation for the trip that lay ahead of me. Granted, I also awoke with feelings of unease (and if you read the previous blog, which was based on the previous night you will understand why) but mostly feelings of excitement. I was traveling to Edinburgh for a friend’s birthday and was terribly excited. There were some downfalls in my trip however which were as follows:

1)      Cork flights were too expensive so I had to fly from Dublin.

2)      I was traveling alone.

3)      I am an idiot (see above paragraphs)

4)      I was injured. (I’m actually writing this blog from an A&E waiting room).

The plan was simple.

·              Get myself to the aircoach stop (on the other side of the city) for 13:00 hrs.

·              Take bus to Dublin airport.

·              Have 2 and a half hours spare time prior to flight for ‘just in case’.

·              Don’t be an idiot.

·              Don’t be injured.

Immediately I had failed two parts of the plan. Things weren’t looking so great. So yes as I was suffering with a broken foot, the forty or so minute walk to the coach stop didn’t seem the most tempting. What would one do in such a situation? Get a city centre bus perhaps? Not in Cork would you dare do such a thing. Knowing far too well of Cork City center bus policy of arriving every 15 minutes (The policy is that they don’t have one.) walking was really the only option. It turned out to be the right option as not one bus passed me on my route…thus meaning I’d still be waiting at that bus-stop now….14 days later. That’s strike one transportation system.

Three Strikes and you're out.

As I almost arrive at my stop (in tremendous pain) to get the aircoach what does it do as I am seconds from the bus stop but drive off. I attempt to run after the bus but with a broken foot this proves difficult. I’ve missed my bus because it wouldn’t stop for the cripple. Thanks. I really appreciate it. That’s strike two.

Distraught from this I make my way to Bus Eireann’s station and am there for about 13:03 and the 13:00 bus was gone. For the first time in history the bus had left on time. The one time I need it. Brilliant. (At this stage I hope you’re realizing how much I dislike transport) Much time is spent at this station deciding where to go next, whether wait for the next bus, catch a different flight or the next train. I opt for the train and make my merry way to Cork’s train station. Oh did I type merry? I meant to say miserable, yes quite miserable. So miserable to say if somebody stopped me to ask the time/support a charity/sign a petition I would have headbutted them. No exaggeration, just a swift headbutt and continued on limping away. That gives you an idea of the misery the transportation system here inflicts on its customers.

What next? Oh yes the train. So I made the 13:30 Dublin train…or so I thought. Whilst my laser card is in the machine processing the transaction the women behind the counter announces, with no remorse whatsoever, ‘oh too late’ and the intercom blows its whistle indicating doors were locked. Brilliant. Missed that train by roughly 30 seconds. Strike three.

This doesn't even do the queue length justice

So I get the next train and catch an airlink from Hueston Station to the airport. At this stage I am feeling more relaxed, I still had an hour and a half to make it to my boarding gate. Soon I’d be eating fudge and looking at men in kilts, all was good in the world. This was until the DAA and Dublin Airport decide ‘lets cause as much chaos and inconvenience as possible’…and you know what, they succeed. At peak time for traveling, that is 6 pm on a Friday evening, the kind people at DublinAirport close the majority of their security gates, forcing every single person flying from the airport to queue in the one queue to get through airport security. I’m not sure if any of you have seen a queue with everybody from an international airport queing at the one time, rush hour time, well it’s long. Very long. An hour and 20 minutes long. So for all DAA’s recent advertising of its new terminal in Dublin Airport it’s failed its customers completely. That’s strike four, five, six, heck strike infinity! The queue was in a state of panic with every single member of it worrying they’d miss their flights and these were genuine concerns. Technically I missed mine. When I say that, I mean by the time I got through security, at an average rate of 16 times longer than what it should have taken, and eventually limped my way to my boarding gate it was closed. Thankfully I worked the pathetic look very well and convinced a member of staff to reopen the gate for me. I really did look pathetic.

So D.A.A you have a great marketing campaign at the moment advertising the opening of Dublin Airport’s second terminal. It’s an ad that captures our attention, it’s moving, makes us proud to be Irish, makes us proud of the airports achievements and is all in all a great campaign. However for all the singing of your own praises in said ad, could attention to your actual customers not have taken priority?

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wdjLBXlieI0

I almost missed my flight and would not have been able to afford a new one. I’m sure dozens and dozens of passengers actually missed their flights last Friday and I don’t know how well they could have convinced men in security to reopen the gates for them. Like I said, I worked the pathetic look, I don’t know had I not been a 21 year old girl in a short skirt with a limp would those puppy eyes have gone down so well.

Having read this I hope you are feeling as much anger towards public transport as I am. Maybe it’s not every country, maybe Ireland has just excelled in its field of irritating passengers and if so, I take my hat off to you. You truly are professionals. 

If any readers want to share their horror stories please do. The ranting will make you feel better, and unlike your friends, I’ll be hearing your story for the first time so you can exaggerate as much as you like. Because as we all know, in regards to traveling, what a difference a day makes!

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.