Eoin Butler

Lame jokes Bob Dylan has told onstage while introducing his band (1988 – 2009)

“At the back, the meanest drummer in the world. When we played in the Middle East, he killed the Dead Sea… David Kemper!”

“You might be wondering what’s written on his shoes – those are foot notes!” Read the rest of this entry »

So my birthday party went pretty well…

Obnoxious Rich Idiot Ponces Around City, Secretly Detested By All…

Read the rest of this article here.

Breakfast has long been a meal that nourished the Irish soul…

In times past, an Irishman might have awoken to find his potatoes blighted, his children exiled and his religion proscribed. But put a plate of rashers in front of him and things suddenly didn’t look so bad. Read the rest of this article here.

Randomers: an apologia

By throwing-out time on a Friday night, the streets resemble a ripped seam or a Hieronymus Bosch painting come to life. The footpaths teem with swaying bodies and grimacing faces. Some are belligerent. Others are content. Others still are lovelorn. Most are drunk. And some… Well, some of us are peckish since you ask. In the bars and clubs from whence we were ejected, dim lighting encouraged coyness and prevarication. Here however, in the unforgiving glare of the late night florescent chip shop, conversations tend to be blunt and to the point. Read the rest of this entry »

To the cyclist who yelled “Love the blog, Eoin”… and then cycled into a wall

Thank you. That was one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen. But I probably shouldn’t have laughed. I think you said “Love the blog, Eoin!” But it might have been “Love the bog, Eoin!” I can’t be 100% sure. Read the rest of this entry »

The day my mother read about me shooting heroin into my c*$!

Yesterday, I posted this article about my mother and I doing a joint pub review one time. Denise asked if my mother ever reads the stuff I write about her. I replied honestly, saying that I have no idea. In fact, there’s only one article I’ve ever written that I know for certain my mother has read.

It involved some heroin and my penis. Read the rest of this entry »

This is utterly bizarre

Some guy impersonating Sir Ian McKellan doing a dramatic reading of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.

“If you’re a fat woman you have to scream ten times as loud…”

“Oh my God, are these new? Can we keep these?” The glossy celebrity magazines were intended as props for the photoshoot. But having been cooped up inside the Temple Bar Music Centre since the early afternoon, The Gossip lap them up like manna from heaven. “Jen and Vince” gasps Nathan. “It’s back on!” “Lindsay Lohan’s fire crotch!” enthuses Hannah. Only Beth Ditto remains focused on the task at hand. “What’s the magazine called?” she asks. “Monger?” Yes, it’s a trade magazine for the fish industry. “Oh, I like fish” she purrs saucily. On which note… Read the rest of this interview here.

Listen up, Professor Oppenheimer…

Our deceased forefathers have had enough to contend with lately. We will not have Livin’ La Vida Loca in Croke Park! Read the rest of this article here.