Eoin Butler: writer, journalist and Mayoman of the Year

Tripping Along The Ledge


Oh Lord, it’s so hard to be humble…

I have nothing to add really, except to ask the question that every football fan is asking this morning: Holy crap, did you see that?

What peaches and what penumbras! Whole families shopping at night!

Find myself mooching around the supermarket again tonight. I swear to God, I never know what I want to eat. I’m pretty sure I hate microwave lasagne. But if I do another lap of the aisles, maybe I’ll like microwave lasagne. It’s weird how it works.

The Adrian Kennedy Phone Show is being piped in. He’s talking to the publisher of a new Irish pornographic magazine. As usual, the city’s emptiest vessels will be invited to air their imbecilic thoughts once the phone lines open. But first the host gets the ball rolling. Read the rest of this entry »


1. That some reputable scientists now believe mysterious forces, presumably cyborgs, are travelling back in time from the future to sabotage the Large Hadron Collider. (Seriously? What does Jim Corr have to say about this!?)

2. That 17-year-old Jessica Springsteen is The Boss of showjumping. Read the rest of this entry »


Last weekend, thirty gurning, fat-headed repressed homosexuals groped each other for 80 minutes in Murrayfield to determine whether Leinster or Leceister could call themselves European champions in a sport that 90% of Europeans don’t even know exists, let alone participate in. Tonight is the real deal.

Kickoff in the Champions League final is almost upon us and, I gotta admit, I’m running around like a kid on Christmas morning. This year the two best teams, with a dozen or so of the continent’s most exciting players – Messi, Ronaldo, Iniesta, Rooney, Henry, Eto’o, Giggs, Xavi, er… John O’Shea – will battle it out to see who lifts the only European trophy that matters. Read the rest of this entry »