Why Do I Even Dare

The Truth Is That I'm Constitutionally Incapable Of Doing An Ordinary Job.

‎what's The Weather Like? ... It's Fierce Mild!

Irish People Give Big Hellos And Very Little Goodbyes. Unless They're Female, And Then They Spend Five Hours Talking In The Doorway To The Person That's Leaving Their House.

I Don't See Teenagers Anymore. I See... I See Youths. Slumped S Shapes In Their Hoodies, All Huddled Round A Bin Of Burning Grannies. All Texting Eachother Because They've Given Up On Speech.

What I Prefer Is An Audience Who Listen. And Are Intelligent. Which I Try And Assume Every Audience Is. And That If Something Goes Wrong, It's Generally My Fault And Not Theirs.