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February 3, 2015

First published on Where's Grandad, April 2012

 

It was 1994, and our country’s hopes were as high as our waistbands.

 

We were pre gap year culture, pre Britney, pre duck-face profile photos. Miley Byrne was rearing a nation, Dustin the Turkey was landing number one hits,...

February 3, 2015

First published on Where's Grandad, June 2012

 

There was a boy, once. I was six and so was he. We were in First Class together, back in the days when First Class meant making your Holy Communion. With that massive ecclesiastical millstone around our necks, he’d be sent...

February 3, 2015

Written November 2011

 

The thing is, when you change location in the middle of a recession, people automatically believe it’s for economic reasons. That starvation, or disgruntled creditors, or creditors disgruntled by starvation chased me out of Cork. That coming back...

February 3, 2015

Written August 2009

 

As it’s Builders’ Holidays in Ireland at the moment (a nationally-recognised breather for those in the construction industry; that should give you some clue as to how ingrained in the Irish psyche is the practise of throwing together the odd stone w...

February 2, 2015

Written February 2009

 

 

The most heated argument I ever had in a taxi was not on the arse of a disappointing Valentine's Day, or with a drunken friend howling hyperbole, or with an overcharging tit of a driver, or any of the usual stuff. It was Christmas 12 months back,...

February 2, 2015

Written January 2007

 

 

I was over at me mammy's last night, for the annual Twelve Candles festivities.

 

The Twelve Candles is an odd tradition, where we light twelve small, slim . . . well, candles, assign a name of a family member to each of them, wait till they extingu...

February 1, 2015

Written April 2009

 

Don't mind old age, nearby incinerators, or over-exposure to cattle doused in growth hormones: self-preservation from the soundtrack to living in the arse end of Ireland is what puts hairs in your ears.

 

Rural Irish pubs who smugly advertise Live Musi...

February 1, 2015

Written April 2009

 

No, no, no. The title of this post is NOT a mistake. I'm sure we could inject a little original thought into the 9th circle if we only . . . well, got the fuck out of it.

 

Balls visited the hometown the other day, and was immediately embroiled in goss...

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