Sliding Rubicons, Crossing Doors And The Serendipity Of Lovely Chance Encounters
There Are Days When Your Story Just Seems To Write Itself
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Rory McIlroy And The Next Major Crusade
What Do I Have To Do To get The Great Man Over The Line?
Sleep Is A River, Flow On Forever
‘The Shrieking Of Nothing Is Killing’, As Bowie Says In Ashes To Ashes. Do I Want An Axe To Break The Writing Ice?
If Friendship Has A Colour …
Time Has Beaten Both Our Faces And Slowed Our Bones, Mick and I, But Not Our Bond
Insight Is Only The Start Of It And Interpretation Is Only Interpretation
The Best Arguments I’ve Ever Had Were The Ones I Walked Away From
What If You Had A Killer Idea … And You Forgot It?
Imagine Archimedes Bath Never Spilled Over … Or I Hadn’t Cut My Finger
Walking Past My Father’s Face In The Mirror
I walked past my father’s face in the hall mirror the other day … Or that’s how it seemed asContinue Reading
Throw Another Rasher On The Full Irish Revolution There, Che
The Day I Said No To The Tyranny Of Fresh Socks
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