Frick. The trap was laid. The mouse bit down. It snapped his head. Now he's squealing. What do I do? Call a fricking ambulance?
00:52
Can't go in there. What if he's like fricking John Rambo? Healing himself on the battlefield.
00:59
Instead of pissing all over the shop the battle-wearied soldiers pissed up against the back wall of the barracks on Arbour Hill after a hard day shooting rebels. On the other side of that wall was the oppressed population. Nowadays the soldiers'd be barricaded up inside there to protect themselves from the natives and their over-zealous cops with bullets and cars bouncing off the fortifications nightly. They're all out there, pissing in.
Imagine the smell in that corner of the Royal barracks on a summer's day, 200 years after the shitpit first opened. That's what it smells like on the streets of the dirty town now. Every day. Winter or summer.
09:00
1960 South African police township massacre at Sharpville kills 69
 |
| At the Sharpville end, 1960 |
The single biggest clue to a bird's identity is the shape of its bill.
10:11
HEADLINE: McDowell apologises to Bruton over 'Goebbels' comment
Minister McDog regrets his remarks as, upon mature reflection, it was inappropriate, as Nazi credentials belong to his party. High-paid brats plead politics for their petulance.
10:29
A plague of woodworm has assassinated our guru Pat Kenny. Ryan Tubridy was drying his sheets too close to the fire last night and melted.
11:27
The city litter sweep comes down the street pushing a blue barrow. The ends of his tattered high visibility jacket are splattered. He wears old jeans and shoes. Seeing the mess, he shakes his head and starts running around it with a brush. He gets one box blowing in the breeze and pushes it against the wall. Next time I look he's gone and nothing had changed.
Veni, Vidi, Vucked off again.
13:00
Meanwhile back on the ranch: Taoiseach's secretary says she lodged 15k sterling for him.
13:02
Broke down so she did. Fighting the tears, she started singing like a fricking tweety bird. He says he needs more time to make up a story about it.
13:37
The bishop is on talking about the mission of the church will only be fulfilled if we depend on the gospel. Who gives a fuck about his perverted death cult? We're going backwards to the eighties and beyond. The 1880s. The church men are on nearly every day. They're trying to sneak the Catholic Church POV back into every fucking issue and question. Except the issue they're trying very hard to evade.
14:08
Vomitus and excrement spurting from the inebriated babes of the nation:
The Environmental Protection Agency has said new figures show that more than a third of Irish rivers and lakes are polluted.14:15
Look at them. The two wise men. Wooly caps and anoraks and all. Blackened from the smog skin, hoods, fags and strongbow cider. They're right, you know, they're bloody right about whatever it is they're arguing about. How does the day unfold when you have all the time in the world. It must make you very wise.
14:55
Meta-amphetamines are the next big drug wave predicted to hit the slums of Dublin. Which is horrible. Their teeth are bad enough as it is.
16:43
Sexy thirtysomething in whiteblue tracksuit and white shoes walks past a glass Lucozade bottle left standing in the otherwise swept spotless alley. She stops, changes direction, walks back over to it and gives it a kick, smashing it to pieces. She flicks her hair back, hitches her bag back on her shoulder and carries on her way.
17:51
Whurly gurdle on a Thursday we'll be chasing down the road hoping to see someone from the telly. Going slow and loud to make the crimbo proud that they're fucking BAD and they're DOING TIME, this time. In the meantime they're turning up more bodies in Bloody Baghdad than they are tonnes of coke here so, glad it's no one we know, god bless 'em. Allah, like. Whomever. Them all. Deity bless 'em. The blessings of the Deity upon them. Poor fuckers.
