Born with Identity...

I did something similar to this post in my first year at Trinity.

Recently, just Five-minutes ago, my mother phoned me saying, someone's found your Passport. This being quite peculiar since I thought I had lost it somewhere in the house and had searched for it for a bit. And only just last week I had it cancelled by the Passport Offices.

But now it's been found? Well I say found. Apparently someone was showing it off in a school near where I live, and an older friend of mine noticed that it was my Passport.

Weird or what? Out of all the people in all the world. I didn't even know it was gone until Mum called. I thought it had just fallen behind some furniture. Bizarre.

Anyway, this post is partly inspired by that, but mostly by something I witnessed yesterday, whilst visiting my good friends in Barry (Hi Tag and Cherrybelly!).

Yesterday was an alright excursion. I haven't ever really traveled to Barry, but the day would have been my first excursion into the sanctums of the seaside town. Would you believe it? I had never seen so many marks on society in one place before. And yes people I am talking about the Common CHAV. We ventured into 'Cash Generator' with the promise of some really really really cheap merchandise. And indeed, the promise was there, but so were they!

Cap after Adidas Logos after Sporty One-Pieces and Prams. The horrors of society each with more tattoos than a single prison block. Quite a scary atmosphere. Especially as they all just push in with no manners at all, and one touched me - THE HORROR THE HORROR!

After being groped in the most uncommon place by the PS2 Games, I scuttled quickly and quietly over to the DVDs where the woman, who was shaped like a Cruise Liner, did not follow. We moved on through Barry sampling the shops and such and in every other shop all the people from the 'Cash Generator' seemed to be following us, even my Gorilla-like groper.

We dived into the , amazingly empty, 'Games Station' - which was empty because, I presume, the prices were too high for the majority of the disgraceful residents of the sadly mucky Barry town.

But that was my day in Barry. Now we move on to why I brought it up. Tag was on the phone yesterday, whilst we were all in the room, to the Xbox Company - Microsoft - because his poor 2-Year-Old 360 seems to have given up the ghost without any such warning or indication of doing. Anyway Tag had to register over the phone. And it got me thinking. My, my, don't we have a lot of numbers and details to our name?

Home Phone, Mobile Numbers, Postcodes, Street Addresses, First Names, Surnames, Middle Names, PINs, Passwords, Emails, Keys, Cars, Likes, Dislikes, Descriptions, and so on.

It's a bloody long list don't you think?

Was it ever simpler in simpler times do you think?

All I hope now is, that the young fellow who has apparently apprehended my Passport without reporting it to the Police, hasn't been using my identity to by Booze, Fags (Cigarettes American Readers, Cigarettes, not packaged Gay People), Drugs, or Prostitutes.

But that's me, until next time bloggers...

P.S. Question: If you could have named your self, and given yourself a country of origin at birth, what would you now be called and where would you be from?