Eoin Butler: writer, journalist and Mayoman of the Year
Tripping Along The Ledge
Eoin Butler
Let’s light a fire, girl. Pour some wine. Lay your body down next to mine. We’ll bump and grind the whole night through.
And then I’ll take your purse and maybe steal your car keys too. Yee-haw!
“When soldiers got back from Vietnam, they got debriefed. Well, my head was like a warzone. But who was going to debrief me?”
The council flat is a modest affair. There’s a yoga poster on the wall and a laptop computer sitting open on a desk. The living space otherwise is frugal almost to the point of ostentatiousness. The thin, white-haired man who answers the door still has the rolling gait of a boxer, which he was in his youth, several lifetimes ago now.
In the early 1990s, the press dubbed this man a “smiling psychopath” and he was shunned by polite society. But at 67, whatever menace he once exuded has long since faded. As he fills the kettle to make tea, he seems a pretty unremarkable London-Irish pensioner. Actually, he is anything but. Read the rest of this article here.
Published: Irish Times, January 10 2011“When soldiers got back from Vietnam, they got debriefed. Well, my head was like a warzone. But who was going to debrief me?”
The council flat is a modest affair. There’s a yoga poster on the wall and a laptop computer sitting open on a desk. The living space otherwise is frugal almost to the point of ostentatiousness. The thin, white-haired man who answers the door still has the rolling gait of a boxer, which he was in his youth, several lifetimes ago now.
In the early 1990s, the press dubbed this man a “smiling psychopath” and he was shunned by polite society. But at 67, whatever menace he once exuded has long since faded. As he fills the kettle to make tea, he seems a pretty unremarkable London-Irish pensioner. Actually, he is anything but. Read the rest of this entry »
No, nay, never… freckle-boy
In the late 1990s, Amy Poehler was a sketch regular on Late Night With Conan O’Brien, playing sidekick Andy Richter’s little sister Stacy. It was basically the same bit, recycled over and over again. But somehow it managed never to stop being funny. Read the rest of this entry »
“To be fair, we did just whizz past in a bright pink discotheque on wheels. He might have been a little bit distracted.”
‘I THINK I went to school with that guy,” mutters 28-year-old Chris Dunne of Absolute Limos as he navigates a roundabout in Clondalkin, west Dublin. Its 8pm on Saturday and we’re en route to the first pick-up of the night. When the passerby does not return his salute, Dunne is disappointed. “He didn’t even acknowledge me!”
To be fair, I point out, we did just whizz past in a bright red discotheque on wheels. He might have been a little bit distracted. Read the rest of this entry »
Mark E. Smith’s Guide to Writing
Via @glinner
“Say I wear the Christmas jumper to the pub Stephen’s Night. Can you guarantee everyone will think I’m cool and no one will laugh?”
Are you kidding me? If anything, we’re having to warn customers that, if they wear their jumpers to the pub, there is a danger they’ll stolen. It’ll be warm, people will take their jumpers off and they’ll be stolen. That’s literally how in demand these things are. Read the rest of this article here.
The Top 10 Most Annoying People I Work With
10. Lance Armstrong boy
Walks around with his sleeve rolled up and his arm stuck out like he’s carrying it in an invisible sling. W-why? Because he’s got a motherfuckin’ Lance Armstrong bracelet dude. Seriously, if he was second class he’d be an idiot. In an insurance office at 24 years of age he has to be either a mental defective or an interloper from some strange parallel universe in which people in offices are impressed by shitty yellow bracelets. Read the rest of this article here.
Rocks Off (1972)
“The sunshine bores the daylights out of me…” Listened to this today for the first time in a long time. It’s even fucking better than I remembered it. My favourite rock n’ roll track of all time. Easy.
Miscellaneous Amusing Items I Come Across #51
That’s a genre now?