Eoin Butler: writer, journalist and Mayoman of the Year
Tripping Along The Ledge
the dubliner
Published: The Dubliner, 15 April 2010“My personal preference would have been for a campaign of violent retribution, loosely modelled on the plot of the motion picture Rambo: First Blood
I have a beef with Dublin Street Parking Services. Actually, I have several beefs. For starters, what array of “services” do these assholes actually provide? I mean, have you ever tried flagging them down, explaining that parallel parking isn’t exactly your forte and asking them to do the honours?
No, DSPS are clampers. That’s the only “service” they provide. Read the rest of this entry »
Where Europe Meets Asia (and some dude has parked his car…)
We left Dublin (and Amsterdam) a couple of weeks ago, some old school friends and I, with a plan. Our mission was to cross the vast expanse of continental Europe to Istanbul, with railways as our only means of transportation. It was a pointless mission. It was an unoriginal mission. Hell, it wasn’t even a challenging mission in this day and age. But we refused to be cowed.
Two days ago, we crossed the shimmering Bosphorus and finally set foot on Asian soil. We were sunburnt. We weren’t all speaking to each other. And we’d actually done the final leg of the trip by airplane because of flooding in Bulgaria. But fuck it. We’d gotten crazy drunk and had a shitload of fun in about a million different countries. Read the rest of this entry »
Sorry RTE… this is Ireland’s greatest person.
Next month RTE launches its search to find Ireland’s Greatest Person. As usual when the national broadcaster adapts a successful format from abroad, the resulting mess will likely serve only to remind us of what a small and, in the wider scheme of things, insignificant nation this actually is.
The BBC’s 100 Greatest Britons list in 2002 included personages as august as Churchill, Shakespeare and Darwin. Our list runs to only forty names. But it still finds room to indulge the preposterous candidatures of Mssrs. Daniel O’Donnell, Michael O’Leary and fully three (three!) members of the Boyzone camp: Ronan, Stephen and Louis Walsh. Read the rest of this entry »
Published: The Dubliner, July 2010Tonight we’re going to party like it’s Ballyhaunis, 1985.
The big day has arrived. I knock off at about 2pm and swing by the crèche. The staff have made a card with an enormous number one on the front. (That’s the numeral “1”. They haven’t just pissed on a piece of cardboard and handed it to me.) They really are wonderful here. All of the carers dote on Lola and she adores them right back.
Some day, I’m sure, I’ll arrive to collect her and she won’t want to come. She’ll tell me she’s staying put. But for now, at least, she greets with an affectionate poke in the eye.
The carer fills me in on what I’ve missed today. Lola is not my daughter, she’s my niece. And this is one of those times when that distinction is most pronounced. Only a parent could possibly give a shit how many times a day their child has crapped itself or eaten turnips. But I listen politely and after that we’re on our way. Read the rest of this entry »
Published: The Dubliner, July 2010Christ, I look like Marcus Sweeney from the eyebrows up!
Urgh. The state of me… Last weekend I went camping with some friends near Newport in Co. Mayo. It was a glorious weekend, so the lads took the precaution of dousing themselves in sun cream. Being freckled, red haired and balding though, I kinda figured I needn’t bother.
It wasn’t until I got back to Dublin that I began to reconsider. I was pretty red.But it could easily get much worse. Believe me, if there’s one thing stupider than a beetroot-coloured bald man, it’s a beetroot-coloured bald man with a peeling scalp. I dropped by my local chemist and purchased a bottle of aftersun lotion… Or at least, I thought it was aftersun lotion. Read the rest of this entry »
They call him Pothole
He’s the son of a well known Dublin businessman and he fancies himself something of a man about town. Read the rest of this article here.
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 »
Published: The Dubliner, April 2010“I feel a bit like Ian Paisley, after a night on the sauce, awoken to find I’m hosting a cake sale for the Legion of Mary…”
Great journeys are often embarked upon unknowingly, and completed in tiny, imperceptible increments. It isn’t until we step back sometimes, that we are even aware of the unexpected turns our lives have taken. The selfish prima donna has become a devoted spouse or parent; the wide-eyed optimist a battle-hardened cynic; and the biggest, most diehard culchie is suddenly writing a column for The Dubliner magazine. Read the rest of this entry »
The Aristocrats!
“My personal preference would have been for a campaign of violent retribution, loosely modelled on the plot of the motion picture Rambo: First Blood
I have a beef with Dublin Street Parking Services. Actually, I have several beefs. For starters, what array of “services” do these quasi-paramilitary zealots actually provide? I mean, have you ever tried flagging them down, explaining that parallel parking isn’t exactly your forte and asking them to do the honours?
No, DSPS are clampers. That’s the only “service” they provide. Read the rest of this entry »