Her name could’ve been Eimear or Sinead or Siobhan. It could’ve been Aoife or Niamh or Cliodhna or Maeve. It could’ve been Bronagh or Caomihe and I prayed that it wouldn’t be Meabhdhgh and it wasn’t.
She had already booked a ticket to Australia when they broke up. They met in Wales and they dated for a while and then he moved to Australia. She was going to see him and live with him but then they broke up and she got gallstones. She said the gallstones weren’t related to the … Continue reading Gallstones are more painful than a broken heart or at least that’s what I’m told
My friends and I are talking about Valentine’s Day. We’re arguing about cards and chocolate and capitalism and corporate greed. We’re asking if one rose is enough and if twelve is overkill and what the second-most romantic flower is. The answer is tulips, because there are two of them.
There are four things a woman should know: how to look like a girl, how to act like a lady, how to think like a man and how to bonk like a rabbit. These aren’t deeply held personal convictions, this is just information conveyed to me by a sign above a toilet. It’s where I get most of my information from and though it’s not necessarily the quickest medium, I’d argue that it’s more reliable than most news sources.
I had no plans to stand in line to see Paris Hilton – not that day, not any day ever – but when I walked past the barricaded area two hours prior to her scheduled appearance a line had already formed. I wondered, was I really going to stand in line for two hours to see Paris Hilton, a person I’ve had no interest in seeing until finding out she was appearing at a chemist? I asked the security guard if it would be busy later. ‘Mate, it’s easy,’ he said. ‘Just line up now, get a photo with a fucking hot chick and then you’re out.’ I couldn’t fault his logistics.
My friend Ryan took acid once. That’s not to say he’d never taken acid previously. Nor was he my friend, actually. But if you knew Ryan well, which I didn’t, you’d be aware of his penchant for all things hallucinogenic. The kids call it tripping.