Before I begin, I need to stress that this post is entirely hypothetical and has absolutely no basis in reality, whatsoever. (*Coughs*). Continue reading To sign or not to sign
All posts by midnightmurphy
A tribute to George Michael
After my driving lesson yesterday, I was distraught. Why does Attila (my instructor) keep stopping the lesson half way through for a toilet emergency. Once might be understandable, but it’s becoming a habit. Is he sending me a not so subliminal message that my driving skills are less than adequate? Or does he just have a sensitive tummy? I choose to go with the latter option. My motoring skills are progressing – at a snail’s pace maybe. Slowly, steadily wins the race. I’ll get there in the end. I will have a license by June – it might not be next June granted. But by some June in the future. Continue reading A tribute to George Michael
An evening at the theatre, part deux: ‘Murder of crows’
After yesterday’s unsuccessful attempt (read about it HERE) to see the play in the title of this article, on Friday evening I tried again. I strolled to the Theatre Upstairs on Eden Quay for the 7pm arrival time. This theatre is located upstairs from Lanigan’s Bar, and is just around the corner from the Abbey Theatre. Continue reading An evening at the theatre, part deux: ‘Murder of crows’
An evening at the theatre: ‘Murder of crows’
It is 7.45pm on Thursday evening. I am just home from Theatre Upstairs on Eden Quay, where this evening I went to see ‘Murder of crows’ by Lee Coffey in its world premiere run. Showtime was 7pm. Continue reading An evening at the theatre: ‘Murder of crows’
On the buses
So far, this morning has been one of squalid misery. Having tossed and turned for most of the night, I finally fell into a deep sleep at about 6am. Imagine my mood when ninety minutes later I heard the repugnant sound of my alarm clock. Continue reading On the buses
Conversation at breakfast
‘So how was your weekend in Amsterdam?’ asked a colleague over a slice of brown toasted batch bread, in the staff canteen this morning. Continue reading Conversation at breakfast
‘Down at the Red Rose Cafe in the Harbour. There by the port just outside Amsterdam.’
I arrived back from Amsterdam late last night, after an action packed weekend of fun and frolics and friends. Continue reading ‘Down at the Red Rose Cafe in the Harbour. There by the port just outside Amsterdam.’
One day I’ll fly away, leave all this to yesterday.
At 4.30pm my out of office message will be switched on. A car will be waiting at reception to take me to the bowels of Terminal 1 in Dublin airport. I will take to the skies in a low cost carrier. A few hours later I will touch down in the land beneath the sea. I may get all Polishly papal when I disembark from the aeroplane, by kissing the ground. I’m going to Amsterdam and I am feeling all aflutter at the prospect.
Continue reading One day I’ll fly away, leave all this to yesterday.
Strollin’, strollin’, strollin’ on the river,
This afternoon was spent walking. Having arrived home yesterday evening, for a lunchtime appointment tomorrow, I had a day to myself. To do what I pleased. At my own pace. I could have done the countryside walk near my mother’s house. But that walk has been done so often I can almost see the imprint of my footstep on the road.
Continue reading Strollin’, strollin’, strollin’ on the river,
Limerick, you’re a langer. Boy
I am going home this weekend. In just a few hours in fact. I’ll be talking the train from Heuston Station in Dublin directly to Limerick. I won’t be taking the Cork train and then alighting in Limerick Junction – the armpit of Ireland – to swap over to the commuter train. I will be watching my bags like a hawk. The last time I took this train was several years ago – since I have returned, bussing it has been my mode of transport. On that particular occasion I was home for a Christmas visit. As I waited in Supermacs for my garlic chip and cheese, I realised that my wallet has been lifted from my pocket. Being a last minute present buyer, I had not yet purchased any gifts. But I had withdrawn a big wodge of cash money to buy them the following day. Continue reading Limerick, you’re a langer. Boy
midnightmurphy 