You know that Tame Impala song, "feels like we only go backwards"? Well, word on the deserted city streets is Tony Holohan has started a secret petition to make it our new anthem-elect until 2047 when all of this shite ends and we remember what it is to shake hands and walk up to a… Continue reading Groundhog Daze: Blah like Enda Kenny
I'm back in Dublin. After over three months spent in complete isolation in Cork, where the only people I have spoken to outside my family are siblings' other halves, two family friends and the lovely cashiers in my three trips to Ireland's best, prize-winning Supervaloo, I am back once more in the cacophonic breach, floating… Continue reading Day 39: Keeping an anti-social distance from “normality”
The truth is I've been trying to write this for five minutes but a piece of toenail got stuck in my keyboard. I tried to get it out but in so doing instead aided it in its escape from my newly-manicured fingers so that now its rump is lodged under the '@' key - which,… Continue reading Day 7: Self-Care is not a euphemism for hair removal.
The skin on my back is itchy and beginning to peel - a day's tanning turned to waste and patchworked peach. It is noon here in Rethymno and the sun is fat and hot in the sky. In the interest of being a grown up - and surviving to be an actual grown up -… Continue reading And with this list, I thee purge…