Did you not get chips with it?

Baby Jesus, meek and mild
Bless the faithful with your smile
Holy Jesus, sacred child
Keep us safe from all things vile
Down from heaven, into manger
Out from slick and slimy thighs
Blood and …

In the latest instalment of my ‘Final Page’ series (see previous instalments here), I now present the last page of my courtroom drama ‘12 Angry Gobshites’.

I don’t pride myself on being contrary, you know.
Granted, there are perhaps too many very popular, very well-loved things I completely detest. Bill Murray, for one. Milk. Leona Lewis. I would keep my mouth shut …

A lass I know made a right nunky out of herself recently when she blithely asked a friend whether a penguin was a bird or a fish.

Her buddy laughed appreciatively. There’s no one who doesn’t …

It seems that the latest craze is writing letters to your 16-year-old self, full to the chunkies with insight, compassion, and the kind of sarcasm that’s ever-so-subtly poignant and has the ould tears globbing like …

“It’s Patsy Cline!”
“No it’s not, it’s Tammy Wynette!”
“CLINE!”
“WYNETTE!” I jumped off the bar and threw my copy of Chat magazine behind me. I had been reading about a woman who claimed she had fallen pregnant, …

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. …

I now present the final page of my war novel ‘Ambush in Saigon’ (read its first page here). In 1986, The Irish Times branded the book “…historically inaccurate on a Sergeant Bilko scale.”