evening herald

LITTLE OLD WINE DRINKER ME (1967)

Overheard this song in a shop this evening. It was a big favourite of my father’s, which was kind of ironic, since he didn’t actually drink himself. It brought a tear to my eye, I must admit. It also reminded me of a very lame old joke told (I think) by Tommy Cooper… Read the rest of this entry »

NOTICE

“YEAH… THAT’S NOT GONNA HAPPEN!”

Last summer the Evening Herald asked me to share with their readers the story of my worst ever hangover. I had no idea why anyone would want to relive that particular episode with me. It was only afterwards I realised the piece must have been published to tie in with the release of a film called The Hangover.

This week, I got around to seeing that film and, although I didn’t expect to enjoy it, I must admit, I laughed my leg off. My hangover story really doesn’t compare. Read the rest of this entry »

THIS IS FUNNY

Just finished reading a book today called The History of Glue… Read the rest of this entry »

FOR THAT GLORIOUS ONE-TENTH OF A MILE, THE DASHBOARD SAID:

Go boobs!

I WAS BORN IN A BLIZZARD

…Or so my mother has just told me. Reckon that’s gotta be the title track on my upcoming classic rock album. “I was born in a blizzard / papa was a lizard / as we rode motorcycles cross burning bridges on a highway to hell…” Or something like that.

THE MAN WHO WALKED INTO WALLS

It’s six o’clock on a Thursday evening and Hartigan’s – an old fashioned, family-run boozer on the doorstep of Stephen’s Green – is filling up with after-work drinkers. I’ve heard a few stories about this place. But this is my first time across its threshold.

With its rough-and-ready decor, bizarre zig-zag layout and curious blend of customers, Hartigan’s actually reminds me of nowhere so much (and I realise that this may be a pretty obscure reference for 99% of readers) as Julian’s of Midfield. Read the rest of this article here.

NOT A GOOD DAY AT THE OFFICE

Bumped into a fellow freelancer on the street today. She mentioned reading my Marco Pierre White interview. Talked about a couple of tough assignments she’d taken on herself. Assumed White was the toughest interviewee I’d ever come up against. Not by a long shot darling, not by a long shot. The most torturous interview situation I’ve ever faced was this one. It was an ordeal for all concerned. Read the rest of this entry »

WE CALL HIM POTHOLE…

He’s the son of a well known Dublin businessman and he fancies himself something of a man about town. Pothole’s nickname derives from that fact that his personality is so grating, his manner so repugnant, people will go to almost any length to avoid bumping into him. Read the rest of this piece here.

Published: Evening Herald, January 2010

Dakota

We call him Pothole. His dad is a property developer. The nickname derives from that fact that Pothole’s personality is so grating, his manner so repugnant, people will go to almost any length to avoid bumping into him. Read the rest of this entry »