Darren Sutherland debuts as a professional boxer in DCU tomorrow night. "This going to be the easy part" - Frank Maloney

The hard part of Darren Sutherland’s journey to professional status is over, according to boxing promoter Frank Maloney. “I don’t want to sound over confident but he’s in great shape. This is going to be the easy part,” he said.

Maloney has been coaching the young Irish champion since he decided to turn pro in October of this year. Sutherland has been living and training in London ever since but returns to his home town and his home college tomorrow for his debut boxing match at a “fight night” at The Helix in DCU.

Sutherland was in fighting form at the weigh-in this afternoon for his super-middleweight clash with Bulgarian Georgi Iliev. Reporters and students mingled in the DCU Sport Hall’s informal atmosphere and craned their necks over the shoulders of cameramen to get a glimpse of the fighters. Above their heads, college athletes pressed against the first floor balconies to get a better view of the proceedings below.

In front of the throng, behind a crash barrier, was a set of scales.

First to be weighed was European Super Bantamweight Champion, Englishman Rendall Munroe and the Italian challenger for his title, Fabrizio Trotta. While Munroe came in under the 55.3kg weight limit for their class, Trotta was three ounces above. Not to be denied, the boxer shed his boxers and stepped up to the scales once more. Still over the limit, the wiry Trotta was told he had two hours to shed the extra load he was carrying.

Sutherland was greeted with cheers and applause as he came forward to have his weight measured. The Irishman struck a pose on the scales for the cameras and came in at 77.4kg. His opponent, Iliev, was nowhere to be seen when his turn came. By the time he appeared and was measured at 76.3kg, Sutherland was half-dressed. With Sutherland in jeans and a pair of socks and Iliev wearing nothing but brown, patterned boxer shorts, their posed squaring off in front of the cameras looked like a frozen moment from a changing room brawl.

The Olympic bronze medallist is delighted to be home and having his first professional fight in DCU. “It’s so exciting to be here. It’s going to be a special moment,” he said.

Win, lose or draw, Sutherland is treating his family to a holiday in Tenerife for Christmas. Then it’s back to London and training for his next fight on March 6^th in Manchester against an opponent who has yet to be named.

And what does Darren Sutherland want from Santa this year? Nothing, it turns out. “I’m living my dreams at the moment. I couldn’t wish for anything else,” he said.

DCU’s Sport Hall proclaims itself as "the home of champions”. There’s a lot of anticipation that this will be the case tomorrow night, when one of the college’s former students dons his gloves and heads to the ring.

Round and round and round we go...

It's on!!!

The Irish Times Thursday 11th December

A SECOND referendum to ratify the Lisbon Treaty will be held before October 31st, according to draft conclusions which EU leaders are expected to sign off on today.

The leaders will also agree to allow each member state to retain their commissioner and to give "necessary legal guarantees" to Ireland on "taxation policy, family, social and ethical issues, and common security and defence policy with regard to Ireland's traditional policy of neutrality", say the conclusions obtained by The Irish Times last night.

BBC Thursday 11th December

The Irish Republic is willing to hold a second referendum on the EU's reform treaty if given certain guarantees by the EU, a spokesman has told the BBC.

...

The mechanism for a second referendum is included in draft conclusions which are being presented by the current holders of the EU presidency, France, and which have been seen by the BBC.

According to the draft, the Irish government says "it is committed to seeking ratification" of the Lisbon Treaty by end of October next year.

An Irish government spokesman told the BBC that it was "seeking legally binding instruments to address the concerns of the Irish people", and that once it got those assurances, it would present "a roadmap for ratification", that would include another referendum.

The EU is set to offer guarantees that the treaty will not affect three main areas of concern to Irish "No" voters - abortion, Irish neutrality and taxation, says the BBC's Europe editor Mark Mardell.

Ireland is also likely to be able to keep its EU commissioner.

Let's hope to Christ that the politicians of the land manage to treat this vote as less of a attention-getting exercise for themselves and more as a difficult campaign to persuade a hostile electorate to accept a disliked international treaty. This should be as important to them as a general election. As far as the State is concerned, this is considerably more important than a general election, as we have managed to royally irritate some of our closest international allies (such as pious, neutral little Ireland has allies), our most important trading partners and our frequent paymasters.

Also, as I climb back onto my hobby-horse, with Ganley seemingly on course to campaign across the E.U in the parliamentary elections this spring, I sincerely hope that some corner of the British or continental press take a long, hard look at his outfit and blow them out of the water.

Here at home, we can look forward to the return of the cranks. The Socialist Worker's Party/ People Before Profit/ Peace and Neutrality Alliance/ Ireland-Palestine Solidarity Campaign is going to have their printing presses working overtime for the amount of inflammatory guff they plan to paper the country with.

It's going to be another fascinating year for Irish politics and current affairs. A second balls-up would really be a nail in the coffin for the country. If Lisbon II passes, we will be allowed back into the bosom of the European community, out of the dog house we've been living in since the summer. If it's lost again, I don't want to imagine the consequences. We might well be told to feck off. We might well deserve to.

This little piggy went to market - but then he was recalled over dioxin fears.

Bloomberg

Dec. 8 (Bloomberg) -- Irish pork producers are facing a 100 million-euro ($128 million) bill to recall all pork products made from pigs slaughtered in the country after tests confirmed some meat contained dioxins.

“This decision has huge financial implications for the processing companies that are involved,” Cormac Healy, director of the Irish Association of Pigmeat Processors, told state broadcaster RTE today. “We need immediate assistance from government.”

Irish pork products were recalled after tests confirmed that around 10 percent of Ireland’s estimated 1.47 million pigs may have been exposed to feed containingdioxins, associated with cancer. Ireland exports about 1 million euros of pig meat a day and authorities in the U.K. are advising consumers not to eat any pork from Ireland.

Rosderra Meats, which produces about 50 percent of Ireland’s pig meat according to its Web site, laid off 850 workers today. The company said it had “no alternative” due to the “uncertainty within the industry,” while labor union SIPTU said as many as 6,000 jobs may be at risk.

This blog post exists solely so I could put up a picture of a cute piggy bank.

Claire On: Blogging, sleeping with Giles and hair dye.

Claire
You cheeky bugger, how dare you insult me like this! Uhhh! And you left out the bit about me saying I'd like to sleep with Giles... which I would - he's a silver fox! Plus, think of the kudos the claim to fame could bring.
And I was saying you LOOK blonde in that pic. I do realise you're NOT blonde, you smartass! I think you should bleach your hair though, that'd be fun. I'll dye it for you if you like!

On a lighter note, that Giles pic is AMAZING. It's exactly like my doll! Wow.

Claire's Giles doll comes with batteries. Ahem. Machine washable, though.

Claire On: Blogging

The indignance wasn't long coming.

Claire

I hate you! And owning a Giles doll (can I just state that it was a present - I didn't buy it myself. Not that I'm ashamed. Giles rocks) is nowhere near as uncool as watching Star Trek. NERD! That programme is so borrrrring! Is that you in the the pic during editing. You look blonde!

Claire's known me long enough by now I would have thought to be able to remember the colour of my hair. Which is not blonde. There's even a picture of me (hair and all) on the right hand side of this blog, in case she forgets. Which, with Claire, is always a possibility.

Claire On: Twilight

Nothing escapes her.

Claire
OMG just heard a radio ad for a new film called Twilight. It tells a tale of forbidden love when a mortal falls for a vampire!! I CAN'T WAIT to see it! A love story with a twist, like the good ol' Buffy-Angel saga. This is gonna be great!

Claire has a Giles doll from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. This, as you can imagine, lowers her cool points significantly. And this is coming from a guy who spent a substantial part of last night watching and re-watching an epic Star Trek space battle from DS9. Best bit, seeing two Galaxy-class starships engage a Cardassian vessel. Although it occurs to me that the rate of phaser fire from the Galaxy-class looks a bit weak.

No, I am still alive. And with grateful thanks.

(Open source editing software causes mental illness. Fact.)

Quite the dive in blog posts over the past few days...

Last week was spent finishing interviews and then editing down about three hours of talking into an 18minute radio piece on the viability going forward of the Social Partnership. Suffice it to say, we can't afford to pay an extra €2 billion a year in salaries to a public sector whose redundancies in this downturn are conspicuous by their absence. Especially €2 billion that doesn't technically exist.

Grateful grateful thanks to Richard Bruton T.D, IBEC's Brendan McGinty, SIPTU's Brendan Hayes, Dr. Sean Barrett from Trinity College and Martin Whelan from the Construction Industry Federation (its acronym I'm guessing is less well known :P).

Claire On: Oiling Up Celebrities

Claire

I'd love to be the person who oils up Britney's legs before a photoshoot... Do you think that's a job - celebrity oiler? I'd be Daniel Craig's celebrity oiler!

-"Claire, we need more oil."

-"No problem"

Elizabeth On: My fun word collection.

Far be it from me to go against Claire, but I have to say I would care if the armadillos of the world were killed off. Not because I find them cute, or loveable- but I love saying the word. *Yes, we've established I'm strange*.

It's like the words umbrella, epiglottis or calligraphy...they just roll off your tongue (and as one observer said "and into your heart"). Actually if you took biology at leaving cert theres basically a whole dictionary of fun words between the pages of the book.

So for the purely selfish reason of my fun from saying 'armadillo', I'd like to say for the record, I'm a fan. Now the dodo is dead*and the cliché overused*, and I study english over science, my 'fun word collection' is slowly dwindling.

Not to mention, what could the Dime bar actually replace the most random choice of the armadillo with? We know the other animals, and Cadbury have the gorilla!

Gormless Governance

Parish politics ride again as John Gormley tries to wriggle out of an uncomfortable political bind. How to balance your duties to constituency and nation? Don't. Just grumble about doing your job and then bleat loudly in protest.

We've seen this before with the Minister for Finance opposing the development of hospital services in Navan that would slightly inconvenience his adjoining constituency, and the same out wesht when a Minister of State for Health tried to stop the HSE from carrying out decisions presumably approved by the department.

We breed a class of politician in this country who all too often put the national or even regional interest paddy last. And not a sign of it changing.

The Irish Times December 2nd 2008

The Minister for the Environment has greeted the decision to grant an incinerator plant licence at Poolbeg by stating he was personally opposed to incineration but was legally forbidden to intervene.

...

“My personal position as a local resident and public representative in regard to incineration generally, and this facility in particular, is well known and has not changed,” said Mr Gormley, who lives in nearby Ringsend.

“As Minister, I work within a legal framework put in place by the Oireachtas which forbids my intervention in the physical planning and environmental licensing regimes. Prior to my appointment as Minister for the Environment, as local TD I made an oral submission to An Bord Pleanála opposing the proposed incinerator."

Mr Gormley added he was instead focusing on a “fundamental review” of waste management policy to ensure a shift away from incineration. That review should finish in 2009, he added.

Dublin's Secret Garden

After my traumatic and disabling injury at the hands of the Construction Industry Federation and their psychotic revolving door and the subsequent interview, I meandered north to O'Connell St for a bus to DCU. Meander is definitely the word. My route was a little indirect.

As I headed up Harcourt St, part of my subconscious decided that I would take a walk through the Iveagh Gardens. This is 90 degrees in the opposite direction to O'Connell St but by the time my mind had been alerted of this course correction I was already motoring on into the park.

Heritage Ireland
The Iveagh Gardens are among the finest and least known of Dublin's parks and gardens. They were designed by Ninian Niven, in 1865, as an intermediate design between the 'French Formal' and the 'English Landscape' styles. They demonstrated the artistic skills of the landscape Architect of the mid 19th century and display a unique collection of landscape features which include Rustic Grotto's and Cascade, sunken formal panels of lawn with Fountain Centre Pieces, Wilderness, Woodlands, Maze, Rosarium, American Garden, Archery Grounds, Rockeries and Rooteries.

There now, doesn't that sound pleasant? It was a nice little walk I had through a park about two thirds the size of Stephen's Green but with only four people in it - myself included. The two big lawns are my favourite bits, especially this morning with two mad dogs haring back and forth across one of them, with their owner standing wisely on the sidelines. And then I was spat back out into the land of the living as I exited a small and dingey concrete gateway and passed the austere National Concert Hall onto Earlsfort Terrace.

Something else worthy of note? The pond in the Middle of Stephen's Green was frozen over this morning as I passed on my diagonal route back towards where I was meant to be going. The seagulls that have mounted a hostile takeover bid for the pond in recent years were standing like Jesus atop the water, unruffled in both senses of the word by the cold snap. The poor ducks paddled morosely through the thin sheet like tubby little icebreakers.

And lastly, a picture of the door to Saint Anne's on Dawson St. Because I think it's purty.

Run over by the Construction Industry Federation's revolving door.

That's not even a metaphor. I have a fear of revolving doors.

They're stupid and dangerous. For a long time I've dreaded being clipped in the back of the foot by one and dragged under the door frame to a certain and messy death.

Today my nightmare came to pass.

I had a 9:30 interview this morning in Construction House down on Canal St. It's a non-descript building apart from one thing... Bulging out from the ground floor was a vision of evil, a tumour on the facade - a revolving door. And not just any revolving door. An automatic revolving door!

So I couldn't even control the speed of the damned thing.

Gingerly I stepped into the segment open to me. Well, I tried to. Barely was my first tentative footstep placed but the door was off, rotating rapidly on its axis like Mercury careering around the Sun. So I attempted a novel mixture between a leap and a scuttle (I looked like Buckaroo with two heavy saddlebags around my waist) to get in before it was too late.

It was too late. Too late for my right foot which got a fair thwack from the door as it hit.

After the door's hit-and-revolve I limped nonchalantly (a feat in itself) to the reception desk, leaving a spattered trail of blood behind me across their welcome mat, and asked through clenched teeth if their director of communications was ready to see me.

There's a Stephen King story in this somewhere. Although in a King version the revolving door would be the possessed gateway to another world and I would have found myself on the dusty abyssal floor of a long-forgotten sea, looking up at a bloated alien sun hanging in a leprous yellow sky.
I'd buy that book.

It was an interesting start to the day. DCU's library has an automatic revolving door as well. I'm going to have to jimmy open a fire escape exit or something to get in from now on.

Paisean Faisean goes to Norn Iron

Dublin's shoppers aren't the only ones chugging north for their Christmas spending sprees. TG4 defied the Southern politicians and retail organisations to bring their incredibly shallow yet oddly watchable dating show across the border and into the, em, occupied territories.

Paisean Faisean
We head north to Belfast this week where three lads hope to win the heart of local beauty and student Wendy Ní Fhionn. Micheál Ó Dothartaigh, a trainee teacher, Ciarán Mac an tSionnaigh and Liam Ó Tonnaigh, both students, are the three lads who try to woo her with lovely outfits.

Woo her with lovely outfits?

That's Pash Fash (more cool points for me) in a nutshell, isn't it? Spend several hundred euro on a girl and she'll go out with you.

As if that's how it works.

That very likely is how it works. In the minds of women. Cecilia Ahern and her "P.S: I'm Dead" books have a lot to answer for.

This week our lovely girl was Wendy; a charming and self confident red-head that defines her taste in fashion as meeting of minds between Victoria Beckham and Eva Longoria.

And the guys?

Liam and Ciaran seemed like nice enough lads and - mercifully for people appearing in this particular show - up for a laugh. Michael seemed determined to force as many Kermit the Frog references into the episode as possible.

The shops seemed a step up from last week's extravageansaí in Kildare. But I couldn't help but notice our well meaning trio from time to time asking for help from breezy blonde presenter, Bláthnaid Ní Dhonnachadha (try saying that surname three times drunk), and being given absolutely useless advice from the woman. She'd pounce from behind a row of dresses, catching them by suprise as they pawed the merchandise, and demand a rationale for their purchases. When, as often as not, they'd profess absolute ignorance, she would simply tell them to shop smarter or something equally unhelpful and then star wipe away again.

Personally, I only really liked Ciaran's attempt - a sparkly little black dress. Wendy liked Ciaran but not his little black dress. Liam and his puffball purchase won the day so unfortunately she was married off to him. I say that not just for Ciaran but also for Wendy and her beau-for-the-show, as the episode's budget had clearly run out by that point in filming. Their romantic candlelit meal in one of Belfast's chic boutique restaurants? The foodcourt in a Belfast shopping centre. And where to retire to for some postprandial drinks and loving gazes into one another's twinkling eyes? The cinema, of course. Located, one suspects, in the same Belfast shopping centre as the foodcourt and the clothes shops.

Both Wendy and Liam predicted passion before the night's end. Quantum of Solace didn't have much of a bedroom scene so I think that might have been optimism on their parts.

Interesting fact
There is apparently no Irish for "fair play" or "peep toe".

The Weekly Show: CNN'S Magic Wall Conspiracy Thriller

(Picture credits: Getty Images)

I've always been in two minds about the point of John Oliver on The Daily Show. For a hit show in a country of 300million people, I would've thought they could drum up enough comedians to fill the bill.
But this clip explains it.

John Oliver has been turned into Jon Stewart's prank monkey of late, to the point that his protests have been silenced with references to the expiry date on his visa. While not as good as Rob Corrdry at really being off the wall, Oliver displays his "willing idiot" credentials to the full here as he tries to uncover and later escape from a massive conspiracy surrounding CNN's fancy-pants/ludicrous technology.

CNN'S Magic Wall Conspiracy Thriller
John Oliver must run before John King finds out he knows too much about CNN's magic touch screen.

It's one of the best clips I've seen in a while. Maybe be re-focusing their guns on targets other than the White House, The Daily Show can keep itself afloat after all.

Claire On: Armadillos

Claire
It's a freak! I hate it! It's not the kind of cute thing you could pet. It's hard and gross. I hate armadillos.

No-one would miss the armadillo if I decided to kill it off. Who'd miss the armadillo? Probably some armadillo appreciation society. AAS. Ass - hahaha!!! I might google that.

Claire On: Britney Spears

Claire is Britney's biggest fan. I know that all of Britney's few remaining loyal fans are her biggest fans but Claire is really her biggest fan.

The Princess Diana of Pop (the car crash, you see) has been an easy target as she went into emotional freefall over the last few years. And during my frequent - some might say daily - missions to wind Claire up this Dixie chick has been of great aid in getting an instant and negative reaction. Also a frown and "the lip." I will expound on "the lip" at a later date. It's amazing though.

Anyways, Brit's back from the living dead and has a new album out - Circus.
I'll just go to Claire's quote, shall I?

Claire
Just got Britney's new album!!!! Eeeeeeee!!!! THIS IS THE BEST DAY EVER!!!
I love her! Love her, love her, LOVE HER!
BRITNEY ROCKS MY WORLD!

Claire has also agreed to review the album and make her first willing appearance here. Watch this space.

Elizabeth On: Christmas Wish List....

(Elizabeth sits on the lap of a man who, it later turned out, was not employed by the store)

To write this post I have to admit something I should probably be embarressed about- I stayed in on a Friday night...to watch the Late Late Toy Show. In my defence, this is a family tradition that I grew up with, and well never grew out of. Tucked up in my pjs on the couch, with cookies and milk, I sat back waiting to watch the stream of toys burst out in front of me.

I don't know about other people who may wander onto this post, but the Toy Show is one of the first signs of Christmas to me. Forget the festive songs(they now start two days after Halloween), and the Smyths catalogue, that used to come bouncing in your door in time for Santa's letter, now arrives before the end of the summer. These have been ruined in my opinion. But I thought the Toy Show was different...

But tonight I had my geeky little heart broken. Pat Kenny was the grinchy tool that stole Christmas. The 'toys' were ipods, computers,wiis and mobile phones. Gone are the days of Barbie, teddies, little cars- and do people remember LEGO?!! By far, lego was one of the best present ever! There used to be fights on Christmas morning over who owned what brick, who had the best house, who had to use the 'pirate legoman' who only had one eye and a wooden leg(because apparently you need two eyes on the little yellow spheres that could choke you in 2mins*fact...don't let your kids eat lego. Even us fat kids never quite worked out that you shouldn't swallow the plastic*)

When I did a vox-pop in a local primary school last week, the majority of kids told me they asked santa for either a wii, nintendo DS or a laptop. A laptop! I only got a laptop in my first year in college and that was a big deal for me! I spent a whole day playing with my ADULT toy(and even now I still don't know all the functions, so God knows what a 10year old will be doing with their computer). I can't help but wonder what happened to the wish list of teddies, dolls, action heroes- and the ultimate gift that was a new bike? *In case you're wondering, my first bike was pink, and had a basket with flowers on it. I had stabilisers that I couldn't take off because I was too chubby and the bike would tilt. Included with my bike was the helmet...and knee pads.. and elbow pads....*to say I was a slow learner would be an understatement*

Accounting for Pat Kenny(who will never nab the fondness I hold for Gaybo), tonight's show was like hearing that a new film is great, and when you walk out you don't understand what all the fuss was about. Maybe it IS because at 21 I probably shouldn't still be watching a programme aimed at kids, but since when were they expected to grow up so fast? The only toys that I recognised tonight, and you might find in Smyths, were the gifts for under a tenner( optimistically known as the 'recession goodies'-what a way to bring on the Christmas cheer)

So if you ask a friend for a present hint to aid your shopping and they start the Mariah Carey serenade, telling you "All I want for Christmas is...", run in the other direction. Chances are you won't be able to afford it!

Completely Untrue Facts About Animals: The Giant Panda

(With the most fulsome of apologies to Wikipedia)

The Giant Panda (大熊貓) (Ailuropoda melanoleuca, literally "black-and-white-devil") is a bear native to central-western and southwestern China. It is easily recognized by its large, distinctive black patches around the eyes, over the ears, and across its round body, and its ability to project rainbow-coloured acid from its mouth. Belonging to the order Carnivora, the Giant Panda has a diet which is 99% human flesh. The Giant Panda may eat other foods such as honey, eggs, fish, yams, shrub leaves,oranges, and bananas when available but prefers the succulent, succulent taste of man.

The Times (South Africa) November 22 2008

Yang Yang was so cute and I just wanted to cuddle him. I didn’t expect he would attack.... I don’t remember how many bites I got.

Cute but deadly, the Giant Panda remains a formidable foe and one with an insatiable desire to feast on humankind.

Ireland's inaugural Thanksgiving feast passes off beautifully.

(The ingenious Irish substitute for turkey)

There were no pilgrims at the table last night but twelve stalwart Irishmen and women, an Englishman, an Italian and a solitary American sat down to share food and give thanks in the Porterhouse North in Glasnevin.

In America, Thanksgiving is a family occasion where loved ones sit down at home and celebrate all that they have to be grateful for. And eat a turkey. And apparently also eat a brutal sounding concoction of marshmallows and sweet potatoes. This has been sworn to me as the truth.

In Ireland - and I now speak with authority on the matter - Thanksgiving is an occasion where friends meet up in a pub (it could also be a restaurant) and order some pizzas and burgers and copious amounts of beer. And then banter the night away in the best of company.

It was a great night. All the origin myths particular to North America were discarded, naturally, but I maintain that the festival or whatever you want to call it has universal appeal and application. And such has been the editorial policy of my little blog.

And here's why:

Christmas is a massive family affair. Relations close and distant are either across a table from one another or have been on the phone from abroad or have sent cards and gifts from down the country. Something roughly like that. Todo para la familia - everything for the family. (A pretty excellent Brothers Garcia reference there. Self five!)

But a hole has been left in the market. Christmas Day a month early with friends. Doesn't that sound like a holiday you could get on board with? Any bunch of friends with half a brain stem between them can and do organise meals out, but to have a specific day in the calendar to honour friendship in that way - and I know this is getting a little cheesy - strikes me as a very nice thing. So from this year on, I'll be setting aside the evening of the fourth Thursday of November and raising a glass to the people who keep me sane and shoulder the desperate burden of being my friends.

Apropos of nothing, some memorable quotes from last night. Anonymity has been preserved to protect the innocent.

"We have a special relationship. We're like Britain and America"
- One half of the DCU MAJ's suspected closet gay couple on his significant other.

"I know a lot of sluts hidden down the canal. Dominance is good."
- The same person.

"I don't want to give you herpes"
- To identify where this particular girl is from would reveal who she is. Suffice it to say, she's from down the country.

Thanksgive and take

An American classmate of mine, Hank, is leading the test-drive of the first Irish thanksgiving later on tonight. Apparently it will comprise shepherd's pie and Guinness.

Hank's Gmail chat status updates and comments are providing an interesting insight into the attitude of white Americans towards Thanksgiving. I now sympathise with the Native Americans on that first cold November day when, having consumed a fine supper, the newcomers to their land from across the sea tilted back their chairs, belched in satisfaction, cast an eye across their surroundings and said with the happy determination of someone who's just decided to buy a new car, "we'll take it."

Firstly, Hank was happy with everyone's wishing him a happy thanksgiving. But not quite happy enough.

Status Update: "Impressed with everyone's memory, unimpressed by lack of food."

Status Update: "Impressed with everyone's memory, unimpressed by lack of food, gifts "

Me: You want gifts?

Hank: Jesus, does it tell you when I update it? Yeah, it's customary to offer any American gifts of good quality and value on this day.

Me: that's news to me.

Status Update: "Respect my authorita!"

Hank: I'm one one-thousandth Native American. Recognise!