I don’t know when or why I first started hating milk. Presumably I drank it as a smallie – I hardly started off on hot ports and sausage sandwiches, despite what my figure suggests – …

As my most devoted followers will know (big shout-out there to mah peeps in Arbour Hill!), I turned vegetarian about ten months ago, give or take the odd mix-up in the McDonalds order.

And I have …

I live in Irish Suburbia – in a satellite town outside a stunted city, in a housing estate surrounded by countless other housing estates, each one as wholesomely boring as the next. And, like any …

We was tough as teenagers, me and mah girlies. We was ruthless, sassy, cool – the Pink Ladies crossed with a collaboration of frustrated crocodiles.

I sent some of my fucktion to great friend wise accomplice artistic soul Kevin today, and was most pleased when he mentioned that I write well from a man’s point of view.
“I was born a …

It’s been said more than once that where the “hard men” of working class Ireland (and Britain too, because we’re nothing if not culturally indebted to its whimsies) were once wiry like a coat hanger …