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“You do realise that just saying ‘no offence’ does not magically make whatever you say inoffensive?”
If you want the honest-to-God truth, most people have a lot they want to say and not that much they want to hear. ”
Jesus may’ve died for your sins, but his ma was the one who was willing to listen to your excuses.
It was the kind of dull dreary Friday morning that Dublin did so well. The sky was the colour of wet newspaper, and it seemed to be bleeding into the day, making everything look like a bad photocopy of itself. Every passing face had that stoic commuter’s grimace; marching ever forward, towards the promised land of the weekend. It was raining, the kind of fine misty rain that meant even if you had an umbrella, you’d reach your destination to discover you were still inexplicably wet. That was assuming, of course, you didn’t get mown down on the way there.
Wilson was an idiot of the worst kind: a highly educated one.
In the meantime, he was dotting the ‘I’s and crossing the ‘T’s, waiting for the S and the H to show up.
Her Mam had often said that Brigit’s problem was she thought she was too good for an ordinary life, but she didn’t think that was fair. Brigit just felt that an ordinary life wasn’t good enough for anybody. It felt like she’d been born in the safest and most boring time in human history. Everywhere in the world had been discovered. Even outer space, it seemed, was full of, well, just boring old space. There had to be more. There had to be some adventure, some magic, left in the world.
In her experience, the mirrors in shops lied and could not be trusted. Only the one in her flat told the truth, harsh as it often was.
At times like this, it was hard for him to run from the suspicion that he might be an idiot.
Paul was fairly sure his arse had fallen asleep. He envied it.
The first time he’d farted, it had been novel. It had broken the tension between herself and Paul. The entertainment value had however lasted nowhere near as long as the smell.
“I mean, no offence, but having you moping around in here every day looking like a spare willy at a lesbian convention, it was getting a bit depressing.”
Have you ever noticed how it is almost always men who are banging on about tradition? That’s because the world used to be set up exactly how they like it and things changing doesn’t suit them. That’s all tradition is: people having no other justification for the stupid way things are done.”
