In January a friend messaged me and asked me if I’d heard there was a new virus in China. Since we’ve had a new virus about every two years that, so far as I can tell, did not affect my life in any way whatsoever, my instant reaction was that it was a load of old clickbait bullshit that the drug companies would magically have a vaccine for almost as soon as we first heard about it. Indeed, I seem to remember this happened with the Swine Flu outbreak, which I believe both myself and brother contracted and which turned out to be little more than three days of the sweats.
“I’m not going,” she says.
“Ah come on, don’t be daft,” I say, “sure it’s all hysteria. You’re more likely to die of diabetes but that doesn’t stop you eating all those chocolate bars, does it?”
“What are you trying to say?” she asks.
“Well, nothing, just that, you know, you like chocolate.”
“And so what if I like it? I know what you’re saying, you asshole.”
“I’m not saying anything. We’ve been looking forward to this gig for weeks. It’d be a shame not to go just because of some silly virus.” Continue reading “Love In The Time Of Coronavirus”
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.