| 6°C Dublin

Colette Fitzpatrick: Jennifer Aniston scent slogans are right on the nose

DLISTED.COM is one of the bitchiest websites around. It's been running a slogan contest for a new perfume that Jennifer Aniston's apparently about to launch.

Entries included 'Woo him back with a fragrance that smells nothing like Restylane, tattoo ink, Billy Bob blood, baby puke or overworked nannies'.

Another charming post is 'Princess Long-in-the-Tooth. Scent: bitter tears'.

Or how about 'Peeping Tom Smells like that corner of Brad Pitt's backyard where the security cameras don't reach'.

Clearly, bare knuckle bitching is all the rage when you can hide behind an alias on the web.

Where oh where are the entries from Team Jen?

Five days to Paddywhackery Day -- dull parades, pub crawls and brawls followed by three days of calls to Liveline. Happy to be Irish?

Stereotype me, I'm Irish. It's just five days to St Patrick's Day and what for many will mean a pub crawl, dull parades across the country, wholesale paddywhackery, a woeful hangover the following day in work, followed by two days of a national conference call on Liveline as listeners recount public order offences to Joe.

So what does being Irish mean in 2010? Is there any truth in the stereotypes? The fighting, drinking, lucky, happy Irish?

Well, we drink about 20pc more than the average European and more than half of us drink 'to harmful levels.' Bust-ups go hand in hand with drink so the 'bar brawling' stereotype must have some truth to it.

Lucky? Lucky maybe that the country didn't tip into the Atlantic ocean between the shenanigans of bankers, politicians, developers and the regulator. Happy? Relieved more like, if you still have a job and can meet the mortgage.

Last year's St Patrick's Day Simpsons episode featured all the stereotypes: pubs, drunkenness, the Blarney Stone, etc but also depicted Ireland as a prosperous country with a confident, optimistic population.

Homer wants to fulfil his father's wish for one last pint in Tom O'Flanagan's bar but when they arrive, there's no cabbage and the taps of stout no longer flow. The pub is empty because the Irish are too busy working in high-tech companies such as Cisc O'Systems and Mick-Rosoft.

Call 1800-Irony. The producers should have tuned into Joe before they wrote that one, or checked the country's wallet. Might have noticed the moths flying from it.

While the world is full of wannabe Irish, just how Irish are you? Will you sit on a Swedish couch this St Patrick's Day, after driving home in your German car? Will you watch an English soap or an American drama on your Japanese TV, while wearing a shirt from an English high street store? Maybe you'll order a Chinese, washed down with a bottle of French wine as you browse the internet for a Spanish holiday?

A 'What it Means To Be Irish' Facebook page includes such insights such as 'there wasn't a huge difference between your last party and your last wake', and 'you spent a good portion of your childhood kneeling'.

The notion of Irishness and patriotism for me is never more acute than when it comes to sport. Flaunting your pride by wrapping the tricolour around you is the only course of action when we win the Grand Slam or the Irish golfers help bury the Americans in the Ryder Cup.

More than half a million was spent in the name of patriotism, tourism and business on St Patrick's Day jaunts for our ministers in 2008. The bill covered limousine hire, five-star hotels, first-class and business-class flights, drinks receptions and fine dining.

Now that's a bit Irish.

Sick of your car being trashed by potholes? well, here's an idea...

Damaged your car because of a pothole? Sick of being thrashed about the roads that look like the surface of the moon?

Well, Potholes.ie just might have the answer for you. Brought to you by the people who brought you, RipoffIreland.org, this website will tell you how to report potholes and how to make a claim.

The website is naming and shaming councils that don't repair the potholes and is running a league table of the country's worst potholes.

Galwegians Rugby Club recently held a pothole auction. Ten of the country's best (?!) potholes went under the hammer. It's not the first time.

A village in Germany has given locals the opportunity to own their own pothole.

Pay a50 and it will be properly filled in and have your name attached, so everyone will know who to thank. The harsh winter wrecked their roads and when the show melted, the atrocious state of the roads became apparent. Sound familiar?

Maybe we could do something similar.

Paying for something else the Government should be paying for? Now that would drive me potty ...