How cute

I walked past the Dáil today. And there was a a garda on the street. As usual. And another one the inside the grounds of the government buildings. Again, nothing unusual about that. And they were chatting to each other. As gardaí­ sometimes do. But they looked so cute, chatting to each other, hands on […]

Lusk shooting.

This morning, as I walked to work, I happened to glance at the headline of my Metro Family anger at killings verdict. And I thought to myself, this couldn’t be the family of the armed raiders shot while robbing a post office, could it? Of course it was. This sort of shite annoys the fuck […]

Black and white

You all know that I don’t agree with people who see things in black and white. I’m more of a “but what about that shade of grey” over there. And of course I like taking the opposite side, for no good reason. But in the case of Miss D I’m going to say that this […]

The blame game

How private should private be, and who can ever possibly take it upon themselves to turn the private public? We are living in a precarious time, a time when both spheres are bleeding into each other and the line of demarcation is wavering. There is great potential here. Either we will become a society who ostracizes even more violently those who are different from us, suspect of every quiet student who doesn’t dress like the rest, suspicious of any husband or wife who doesn’t drag his or her child to every Saturday soccer game, or maybe, just maybe, we’ll become a society responsible to something greater than ourselves

The most important thing to remember about drunks is that drunks are far more intelligent than non-drunks. They spend a lot of time talking in pubs, unlike workaholics who concentrate on their careers and ambitions, who never develop their higher spiritual values, who never explore the insides of their head like a drunk does.

So who was it that taught pigeons to play chicken then? They can’t have come up with that nonsensical approach to life themselves can they? I mean, I know they’ve always been a bold and fearless[1] species, what with their belief that they can escape the wheels of death-buses merely by waddling out of the […]

It matters what we journalists do. If I didn’t think my work made a difference, I’d probably give it up

Today marks the tenth anniversary of the death of Veronica Guerin. For those of you who don’t know Guerin was a journalist who mainly wrote crime stories. Exposing drug lords and crime gangs. She was shot and killed as she sat in her car at a red light on the Naas road. In the aftermath […]

In order to find his equal, an Irishman is forced to talk to God

Patrick’s Day Photo’s on Flickr, but i didn’t manage to get any of the first bit of excitement.

Coming down the road, looking for a parking space after dropping the sister off we noticed an auld lad, around 80. On a tractor, also around 80. both of them decked out for the parade. Him in a St. Patrick’s outfit, with a fake beard and everything. The tractor covered in balloons and green decorations.

Speeding up the road he was, at, oh, just under 2 miles an hour or so. When what happened? Yup. He crashed. Into a parked van, tearing the side open.

We slowed down in the car, and a few of the pedestrians shouted for the garda around the corner. She wandered up, stopped him from going any further, and we had to leave the scene as there were cars building behind us. As we walked by a few minutes later though anther garda had joined, luckily enough as the old fella pretty much had to be carried across the street he was so drunk. Would’ve made a good photo, St. Patrick being carted away by the cops, but I didn’t have my camera at the time. Pity.

Anyways, it is week 162 and Luna Nina says:

  1. Sugar rush:: red lemonade highs and terrible tantrums
  2. Chemical::
  3. Suspension::
  4. Defending::
  5. Conference::
  6. Dance::
  7. Weather::
  8. Fuel::
  9. Heartbreak::
  10. Insult::

So I say Read more about In order to find his equal, an Irishman is forced to talk to God

There are only two tragedies in life: one is not getting what one wants, and the other is getting it.

Well just whack me upside the head why don’t you. Just noticed[1] that I had been calling Mish’s blog Penguin’s Rock! When of course the rock was not a stone that belonged to the penguins, but rather a description of their utter coolness. Damn you grocer’s apostrophe, damn you! Still, all better now. Which is […]

There’s always someone careless with glass

You know whats a bit strange. Coming out your front door and almost bumping into a gun. There is a court opposite where I live, and must have had an exciting day, normally they just close off the street to traffic and a couple of Gardaí linger around. Yesterday the street was closed, the guards […]