Eoin Butler: writer, journalist and Mayoman of the Year
Tripping Along The Ledge
irish times
THIS IS FUNNY*
A door to door sales rep knocks on the door of an ordinary semidetached house. It’s answered by an eight year old boy, dressed in stockings and suspenders, with a fat cigar in one hand, and a large glass of red wine in the other. Read the rest of this entry »
THE TAYTO YEARS
This week, I’ve been inveigled into writing on the topic ‘Food Memories of the 1980s’. It’s kind of a tall order, given that I was only a small boy during that decade. It was all a blur of penny sweets and Subbuteo as far as I can recall .
Go on, they said. There must be a few special Eighties food memories that stick out… Well, there was that time Duran Duran dropped by my house and we ate Rice Krispie Buns and played Space Invaders together.
Really, they gasped? No, of course not. Read the rest of this article here.
LE BATEAU IVRE
I followed deadpan Rivers down and down,
And knew my haulers had let go the ropes.
Whooping redskins took my men as targets
And nailed them nude to technicolour posts. Read the rest of this entry »
“DEAR PATRICIA. HAVE TAKEN COP. SEE YOU LATER…”
“Your work,” she inquires. “Legal, isn’t it?” “Am… mostly… Why do you ask?” She eyes me quizzically. “You’re the solicitor, aren’t you?” “No, I’m the journalist.” She squints over her glasses and snorts. “Arrah, for the love of God…” Read the rest of this post here.
YOU GOTTA CLICK…
(N.B. This is now the most clicked link the history of my site. I’m moving it to the top again on the grounds of its insane brilliance. Ho ho ho…)
I’M RICH… RICH BEYOND MY WILDEST DREAMS!*
(*Disclaimer #1: My dreams aren’t very wild. Disclaimer #2: I don’t know if I’ve ever actually had a dream about money.) But fuck it, if you’ve ever been tempted to abduct, murder and rob me of every penny I’ve got, now would definitely be the time to do it. Read the rest of this entry »
THIS IS FUNNY
Told my girlfriend I had a job in a bowling alley. Read the rest of this entry »
DESERVE GOT NUTHIN’ TO DO WITH IT
On Saturday, I turned down the chance to participate in a football vs. X Factor debate on Newtalk’s Weekend Blend. (Ireland’s World Cup qualifier in Croker that evening clashed with the popular television show.) I told the producers that I find the whole X Factor phenomenon so monumentally stupid, I wasn’t prepared to waste my breath even slagging it off. Just as well I did too, or I’d probably have been accused of intellectual snobbery by Sarah Carey in the Irish Times today. Read the rest of this entry »
MISCELLANEOUS AMUSING ITEMS I’VE COME ACROSS #17
Well, someone’s certainly put some pep in this college’s step! (Needs sound.) With thanks to my friend Michael Freeman who may, or may not, be weighing up a career in veterinary office management…
YOU KNOW WHAT YOUR PROBLEM IS?
Sara has a low opinion of Irish men. But there’s one for whom she reserves particular scorn. One prototypical idiot she regards as even more clueless than the herd. “Tell me Eooo-wen”, she purrs in that annoying Teutonic drone of hers. “What are you getting your girlfriend for Christmas?”
“Binliners, perhaps? Tampons?”
She shrieks with laughter. I don’t bother lying.
“To be honest, I doubt we’ll even be together by Christmas.” Read the rest of this entry »