While the rest of the country enjoys a bank holiday spent on the couch, absent-mindedly picking the sweat-residue from around the buttons on the Sky remote, down in Cork we’re celebrating our annual jazz festival.

Now look. I’ve said before that I wouldn’t know a GAA star if one booted me into a fondue pot, and like Brian Lenihan’s status on amihotornot.com, no amount of clever spin will ever change …

Ah, wrath is indeed the deadliest sin.
Now I want you all to say that in a Northside Dublin accent.
“Wrath is indeed the deadliest sin.”
Irish readers should know what I mean by now, but if you’re …

At the time of writing, I am after five full years of marriage, and two full glasses of Merlot.

And, y’know, it’s been great. There have been tears, laughter, tears of laughter, and heart-bursting declarations of …

D’you know what I’m sick of? Up to the teeth, down to the ankles, to the tips of my neck hairs and the creases on the backs of my fucking knees, I’m sick of vampires. …

There was once a public servant called John O’Donoghue.
He was stuffy of collar and puce of visage, as chunky as a tree trunk and as stubborn, too. He had the restraint of a boy king …

We got to talking about designer drugs the other day.

I wouldn’t be too hot on the subject myself; to me, mephedrone sounds like a particularly humourless Transformer. Besides, I’m not one for designer anything; all …

Oh, woe is me. I’ve just spent the last two and a half days in bed with Mild Flu. Even woe-er is me, Mild Flu is not the same of our Trinidadian pool boy … …