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Published: The Dubliner, June 2010

In case anyone was worried I wasn’t using my break from blogging productively

It’s one o’clock in the afternoon. The sun is shining. The sky is blue. And I’m plonked on the couch in my boxer shorts eating Crunchy Nut Corn Flakes and watching the World Cup. Watching football while everyone else is at work? Christ, it’s good to be alive. If someone had asked me when I was a kid, what kind of life I wanted when I grew up – I gotta tell you, I’d have settled for a lot less than this.

The postman sneaks his nose around the open door. There are a couple of bills for me. Who’s winning, he asks? Serbia, I say. Klose has just been sent off. Postman looks pissed off. Miroslav Klose, he asks? Yup. Shite, I have him on my Fantasy Football team. Read the rest of this entry »

My shortcomings as a writer and as a human being (abridged)

For the past couple of months I’ve been writing a column for The Dubliner. It’s a much more taxing job then I had anticipated. I’m expected to offer coherent thoughts on some topic of contemporary relevance each week. This isn’t easy for me.

It wouldn’t be a problem, I suppose, if I actually gave a shite about the economy or knew what NAMA was or any of that. But that’s never going to happen. I’ve never opened a bank statement in my life. I’m not going to suddenly pretend I’m Eddie Hobbs. Read the rest of this entry »

…OR HAVE I JUST BLOWN YOUR SANDWICH-EATING MIND?

Still settling in to the new neighbourhood. Found a pretty nice, and more importantly real (see here), deli nearby today. Unfortunately, by the time I rolled in there wasn’t much produce left. Maybe it’s the recession, but I wanted chicken and, even after padding it out with stuffing, there clearly wasn’t going to be enough to fill the roll.

Lesser sandwich aficionados would have given up and gone elsewhere.

The lad behind the counter was only 18 or 19 years old.

What’s your name, son?, I asked. Read the rest of this entry »