It was the pit of winter. Darkness was only broken by seven hours of short weak light. It was harsh on everyone. Some people made it harsher on themselves. Slanty was one of those people. Slanty was an irregular man living at the edge of the world in his family garage, who was prone to bouts of computer game blackouts and illegal downloading; broken with binges of conspiracy videos, while all the time digressing into trolling and other nefarious online activities, and all of it all the time laced with tins of cider and bottles of vodka. That combination of detachment from the world, and all its nonsense of say; what day is it; I need to here at so and so; what time is it now and when do I need to go to bed. It all made it hard on himself.
I very recently had occasion to be all night in A&E and, quite honestly, it was the most chaotic I have ever seen it. I won’t delve into the details as to why I was there, as they are personal, but I would like to relate the experience nonetheless. Continue reading “ONE NIGHT IN A&E IN GALWAY”
Part 1: No Bed at The INN
“Give me your documents or there will be no bed for you here tonight and you must sleep on the cold October streets,” is the reception I get when I arrive at my accommodation in The Ritz the night before the Dublin Marathon. Except that it’s not actually The Ritz and that’s not exactly what the receptionist said. But while the €56 for a bunk bed in a room shared with strangers could hardly be described as The Ritz, the reality is I am literally going to be turned out onto the streets as the identification I have, even though it is photo ID and has been accepted everywhere else I’ve ever used it, does not come in the form of a passport or driving licence. Lovely.
“He had this green growth on his langer and so he went to the doctor. The doctor asked him if he’d been out somewhere foreign and he said he’d been to Mongolia and so the doctor said, ‘ah, you have the Green Mongolian Veneral Disease then, you might have to have it amputated’. So, he goes to a Chinese specialist and asks him, ‘Will I have to have it amputated?’ and the Chinese lad says, ‘no,’ to which he breathes a sigh of relief. And then the Chinese doctor continues, ’It will fall off all by itself.’” Continue reading “One Day In Aughrim, Galway”
I will not repent for the scandals the satanic media whores lay at my door. I was a good priest. I always did what I thought best and now they use my name in sensationalist headlines like “Father Daly Summoned In Paedophile Investigation”.
Continue reading “THE UNREPENTANT PRIEST (Part 1 – a monologue)”
“Have we any vegans here tonight?” I ask and hear a few vague yeses from the crowd. “Well, don’t worry,” I say, “I’m not going to make fun of you.”
“Have we any Nazis here tonight?” I roar and the room erupts with laughter. “Well, don’t worry, I’m not going to make fun of you either. I was talking to a vegan recently though, you know, one of those vegans that emphasises that he has no problem with “meat eaters” like me. Now, I think my blood sugar was a little low or somethin’ cos at the time I thought he was calling me a homosexual.” Continue reading “The Comedian”
Sitting down on the train to go to Bray (all pics here) I get a bad smell, really bad, and it’s wafting off of my jeans. It’s a smell that reminds me of a teacher I had in school years ago. The man smelled so bad I used to sit right at the back of the class and his stink would still offend my nostrils. Continue reading “One Day In Bray”
Arriving in Clifden with a sleepy head at 11.30, the first thing I go in search of is a cup of coffee. Entering a bakery in Market Street to acquire same I am served by a pleasant young black woman and when she speaks she has as Galway an accent as anybody could ever hear. I don’t know why this surprises me, but it does, and is a sort of wow moment which makes me smile a bit.
“Where’s the loo?” I ask.
“You mean the toilet?” she replies, to which I nod. These days I feel I am increasingly speaking a different language to the youth of today.
I wasn’t properly trained to run for twenty-four hours but I did a beef-fueled 52.5 mile training run in early May after not training for four months. 52.5 miles was the longest run by 12 miles I’d ever done at that point and it took me 9.5 hours.
While I realise my choice of fuel sounds weird, last year I did a dietary experiment where I ate nothing but beef for a month. 20 years of chronic and worsening skin inflammation went away within that month. At this point I’m ten months without needing steroid creams which is quite something since I previously couldn’t go a week. Additionally, I experienced a dramatic reduction in chronic, and worsening, IBS and extreme fatigue. My weight reduced to what it was when I was in secondary school and my exercise recovery increased dramatically. Was it all fun? Hell no. I experienced insomnia, breathlessness, dry skin, and tightness in the chest, but I had felt all these symptoms before – every time I gave up smoking cigarettes. Can I afford to eat beef all the time? Hell no, I can’t, and don’t, and after my one month experiment I opted for a more ketogenic dietary approach, which seems to suit me better in any case. Is it healthy long term? I don’t know, so I don’t recommend anybody tries it; but one thing I am sure of is, from a subjective standpoint, is that carbohydrates can be detrimental to good health in many ways. Continue reading “24 Hours On The Run In Belfast At Energia 24”