Our young love will move mountains.
Our young love will freeze oceans.
Our young love will remove all obstacles in the way.
Unless that bulldozer gets to them first. Obviously.

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Our young love will conquer all



When she was smaller, I used to take the opportunity that she was trapped in the kayak to make her recite her multiplication tables.

Tonight, we had another kind of talk. For today in school, they got the second part of the Talk. Which shouldn’t be called the Talk actually. It should be called the Showing of the Video Followed By An Embarrassed Silence.

I asked Mimi if there were any questions from her or the rest of her class after the Showing of the Video Followed By An Embarrassed Silence.
But there were none.
After watching it, they were actually given the video to take home, and encouraged to watch it again with their parents and discuss it afterwards.

So that’s what we did while paddling. Without watching the video of course, my kayak is not that well equipped. But Mimi gave me a pretty good description of the content.
And we had a nice frank chat, and I explained to her that sex is not half as disgusting or off-putting as suggested by an animated cross-cut diagram of a penis entering a vagina. That it is actually quite a special moment, quite a sensual rather than sexual moment, and that it is not a chore at all, to the contrary, that most people go to great lengths to create the opportunity for that moment, up to and including taking a work colleague on a first date to a jazz concert and drinking overpriced warm prosecco from plastic cups.

Then she told me that all her colleagues were totally grossed out at the thought of their parents having sex. And I told her that it was normal.
And I asked her if she found the thought of Mum and Dad having sex disturbing and she said yes, totally so. And I told her that it was normal. And that Mum too found it totally disturbing, and that it was normal.

What I also told her is that the thought of sexual intercourse would not always accompanied by a feeling of embarrassment or dread. And that it will be nice. Very nice. Nicer than in a cut-out diagram of a penis entering a vagina.

And that she should always feel free to discuss the subject with me, if she had any questions or thoughts or doubts, that I am already used to having the Talk with Luca, and that I have always answered all his questions.

And there were quite a few.

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The chat about the Talk


Reflective journeying


Some muppet forgot to pack the Pringles




Longford the colourful


Not just cold, but Frozen


Putting the beauty in beauty salon


Ballaghadereen Tourist Office – tourists wanted


Fancy a pint, anyone?


On the road again


Someone forgot his Easter eggs at Nana’s…


Some muppet did not forget to pack the Doritos

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Road trip


A kitten at first, but it eventually got the claws out.

Rather superb it was too!


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The Beast from the East

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Feasting on the Beast from the East


Once again, the nightmarish scenes predicted by Met Eireann materialised, and this is the sorry spectacle that awaited in the driveway this morning: the car was well and truly stuck in snow drifts.
Thankfully I was able to cram 4 sliced pans under each wheel and gained traction. That panic buying with the rest of the Dublin population yesterday was well worth it!
Braving the 0 °C temperature to proceed to the wedging of the bread under the pneumatic implements was no small feat. Imagine that, zero degrees, in February?!?!
I had to wear gloves, for fuck sake. And a scarf!

As I type hundreds of school principals around the country have the right index finger on the panic button, ready to press it as soon as three snowflakes coalesce in the school yard, to immediately (and indefinitely) shut the schools down. For health and safety reasons. Obviously.

I guess that we have the mass media, and the mass hysteria, that we deserve. 
We make it easy for them. We love nothing better than to click on links of promised doom, or the latest Orange Man imbecilic quote, or hilarious videos of farting pandas. 
We are happy to allow them broadcast their alarmist crap in our living rooms, on our radios in our car, in our few surviving daily newspapers. 

They feed us the shite we thrive on. 

It takes two to tango. 


I sometimes see her in the morning. The Dog Whisperer.
Who actually manages to get all four of them to walk together, at the same pace, with no excessive pulling, bickering, impetuous urine sprinkling or tangles in the leashes.

I have absolutely no idea how she does it.

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The magichienne

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Rarely will a colonoscopy be more heralded, advertised, discussed, trumpeted, feared, debated or planned down to the most minute details.

Carlos still has 7 days to psyche himself up.

He asked me to keep this to myself. But I have overheard him discussing it at length with the receptionist. And B from Accounts. And S from Sales. And half of the mesmerised engineering department. And the cleaning lady from the 3rd floor. And his sister on Skype. And more importantly her GP husband on the phone.

I thought I’d discreetly add a reminder on our corporate wall calendar. The one used for the only thing that truly matters in the Mistake Factory: the holidays.