Conor

@tiduslaughing.bsky.social

There's six pockets on the table

Right when I woke up today, I went to look up a word on Teanglann, and, before I finished typing it in, I realised it was the word of the day. It was so weird I thought I was still dreaming so I tried to wake up again but I couldn't because I already was.

Seeing a lot of fellow Kerry people being gracious in defeat which I have nothing but contempt for. I am a real fan and am already conjuring a new, more wicked curse that will not only see that none of those young men wins an All-Ireland again but will bring death and illness to all they hold dear.

medieval guy on his phone laughing his ass off at a short-form video of a deacon sitting closer to the head of the table than a bishop

Says something about how much I hate to open an app on my phone that is always in my pocket that I am humouring the idea of dropping 70 quid on a radio that will let me listen to Raidió na Gaeltachta

Came out of the house as a fella walked by with a basket full to the brim with clearly stolen beef. Dozens of steaks, briskets still in their security netting. As he rounded the corner, two sirloins flew out the top of the basket. He noticed me staring and offered to sell me them.

I hate more than anyone the disarming wise man who lives in my village. Whenever I fly into an exquisite rage, he defuses me with an acute observation or short parable. I wish he was dead.

Interviewer: It's obviously a global trend now, but what inspired you to first start bringing a damp rag to bed at night to beat the heat? Sickly Victorian Child: Well, honestly, I've done it for years. I used to always have one to dab at my temples with. For my agonies, you understand.