Thursday 10 January 2008

Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies

My alarm clock beeps a little bit too chirpily for my liking. Were it to be personified, it would be a man in an Aquafresh advert - waking up bright eyed, bushy tailed and, somehow, already clean shaven. It is however, infinitely more pleasant than the traditional one I had when in university.

Impressed by its retro-coolness, I dived headfirst into an impulse buy without really considering the noise the tiny hammer and 2 little bells might generate. This matter was only given serious consideration the following morning when I finally came back down from the ceiling - it frightened the bejaysus out of me.

It spent the rest of its days, disfigured by two thick layers of surgical tape, strategically placed on the bells to deaden the sound. It succeeded in changing a shrill, bowel loosening BBBRRRRRIIIIIINNNNNNGGGGGG! to a series of rapid clicks (which were far more acceptable).

Anyway, the alarm begins beeping merrily at 6:30am. We slumber at the mercy of the snooze button for 30 minutes (ish) then get up. At 7:40 (ish) the close personal friend heads out the door work-bound but, as I don't need to leave until 8:45, I have another coffee and spend an hour or so listening to the radio or reading Sunday's papers.

One day, wondering what drivel the national broadcaster shows at such an hour, I flicked the TV on to find Bláthnaid Chofaigh interviewing somebody in a repeat of the previous days Afternoon Show. At one point she began a question with "Now, tell me this and tell me no more...". The interviewee answered the question... AND THEN SHE ASKED ANOTHER QUESTION!

As far as I am concerned, using the phrase "Tell me this and tell me no more" is only acceptable the following situations...

  • You inexplicably find yourself living in the land of Darby O'Gill and the little people.
  • You wish to sell an Arran jumper to some Irish-Americans.
  • YOU DON'T ACTUALLY INTEND TO ASK ANY MORE QUESTIONS
I don't like being lied to - RTÉ can expect a strongly worded letter..

8 comments:

Stonedog said...

I don't quite get 'snooze', if we want another half hours sleep why not just put the alarm on for half hour later ?.

I ask myself that question often, usually as I'm cursing the alarm and hitting snooze !.

The Bad Ambassador said...

I think the idea is that it allows you to wake up a little less abruptly.

Stonedog said...

Surely each time the alarm sounds it causes an abrupt awakening ?

Maybe I'm thinking about this too much !!

sheepworrier said...

I used to have one of those football alarm clocks that you had to throw against the wall to turn off. Very satisfying, but I wouldn't advise it in student digs with plasterboard walls...
Also, the energy used to hoof the thing at the wall, table, cat made it impossible to get back to sleep again.

Medbh said...

I hate those folksy expressions as well. How tacky.

We had a canine alarm clock for years and never had to set an electric one.

Thriftcriminal said...

In college one of the lads I shared with put his alarm clock across the other side of the room to ensure he got out of bed. One morning I heard "bebebebeep bebebebeep, thud thud thud THUD". He had got up too fast and fainted.

Caro said...

I like those old-fashioned ones. Mine plays monophonic tunes like a very old mobile phone and I feckin hate it.

The Bad Ambassador said...

You should try one Caro - I'd take a mobile phone alarm any day.... well... except the day we actually used the close personal friend's mobile phone as an alarm and decided that the sound of a man laughing was the ring tone we would use to wake us up.

At the time it sounded sufficiently quiet and non-threatening. When woken at 7am the following morning however, it sounded like some maniacal, chainsaw-wielding luanatic. It was honestly the most sinister, evil laugh I have ever heard.

It had us both sitting bolt upright in the bed, wide awake through fear.... so, in fairness, it did its job.