orla barry

Just Call Me Betty

Tell me if this is weird or not… A week on, Crystal Swing’s raunchy He Drinks Tequila is still playing on a constant rotation in my head. Stranger still, when I hum the song to myself, and it comes to the ‘And just call me baby’ line… for some reason I keep singing ‘And just call me Betty.’ Even though I know those aren’t the words. Read into that what you will, Mr Freud! Read the rest of this entry »

Jack and Neal… California, Here We Come

Wow, holy shit, thanks to regular reader Denise for forwarding this deadly clip of Maeve Binchy, Shay Healy and myself talking about our favourite books on the radio a couple of years ago. I gotta admit… hand on heart… that I have no recollection of the conversation whatsoever. But its really interesting. 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 »