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Ignorance on the dancefloor but you’re never gonna steal my groove (hey hey)

Stop the clocks, hang up the telephone. Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone – the end is nigh and the worst has happened. A tragedy even greater than losing me has befallen my ex-boyfriend. And I’m heartbroken - devastated! -  at the thought of losing someone so young to such a destructive… Continue reading Ignorance on the dancefloor but you’re never gonna steal my groove (hey hey)

I am not a prize to be won: The problematic misogyny of Disney

This article featured in the Irish Examiner Weekend Magazine in March 2019. If I had to choose one memory to define my childhood, it would begin and end with a meringue princess dress. Adorned with tiara, bedecked in what I called jewels but everyone else termed plastic crap, watching a Disney movie with rapt eyes… Continue reading I am not a prize to be won: The problematic misogyny of Disney

Friendship is the thing with blossoms

  On Wednesday evening, I was hungover. I struggled through a three hour theatrical imagining of the end of capitalism. It was titled, 'It was easy (in the end)' and, truth be told, it wasn't easy at the beginning, middle, or end. At least not to my addled, over-stimulated, sleep-deprived slump of a brain who… Continue reading Friendship is the thing with blossoms

Ordeals and Are You For Reals: Sponsored by Aircoach Customer Service

It is a truth universally acknowledged that the more your life crumbles around you, the more amusing it is to the wider populus. Due to some interest in an Instagram story documenting a pasta-induced delirium, exacerbated by an inflated ego, I have decided my first new post should not be the insightful, considerate, thought-provoking, earnest… Continue reading Ordeals and Are You For Reals: Sponsored by Aircoach Customer Service

Family holiday: an anthropological analysis

In the midst of bleak January, five adult children and their two childlike parents packed themselves into two cars, packed all of their belongings into one suitcase and seven bursting ‘knapsacks’* and jetted off for some sunny R&R. Here’s a relatively accurate account of our travels, filled with artistic licence and a flair for the satirical.