Author Archives: Aaron McAllorum

Remember Zip Up Your Mickey? What about Mel Gibson’s racist chit-chat with the missus? Look what Nat found on You Tube.

Warning: N-bombs, C-bombs and images of John O’Donoghue.

Via bigmentaldisease

But will they or their children be able to even afford face paint?

Good morning from everyone at Broadsheet. We had a brilliant weekend.

Never mind chalky residue. We’re still trying to rub off the stamp from Howl At The Moon on Saturday!

(original quote: Michael O Muircheartaigh).

“Might be worth mentioning the hurling,” said a small voice in the corner of the office. It was Big Mac and, because he has to get the bus back home in an hour, we told him to tell us succintly, in his own words, what’s happening in Croke Park on Sunday

“Kilkenny vs. Cork. The good news for Cork, Sean Og (O’Hailpin, above) is back after injury. The bad news? They are playing Kilkenny who will probably rip them apart, stuff them, feed them to the kittens and get some more free advertising for Glanbia, via Brian Cody’s rather fetching, ever-present, baseball cap. I predict five-in-a-row. See you in the Hogan Stand?”

Look, no offence, but if we wanted an old man to literally urinate down our back and in our duffle coat pockets, we’d stay at home.

Painting by Sean Cronin (flickr)


httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mmkQ7fw-l0g

Inception: A Haiku

Girlyman grows up
Makes unofficial sequel
to Shutter Island?

Maith an fear,

Fintan.

(Composed in the car park of Storm Cinemas, Naas)

[smooth=id:12]

Back and to the left. Back and to the left. Back and to the left. Blathnaid was a sitting duck.

(We apologise for the grainy footage. Captured by a dress designer as the sofa drove by Dealey Plaza)

.

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ybhroG408SU&NR=1

Come on kids, the man needs a holiday. Never mind, watch this very rich substitute from the guys at Apres Match. OK, you’ve seen it before. But you’ve seen Fargo more than once, right?

We hope the Apres crew are just like us: like-minded guys (and in our case, a good number of ladies) working, without ego, for a common satiric purpose. We’d hate to think they were in it just for the bread. We’d hate to think they had ego issues with one another and didn’t enjoy a smoke or a pint and a game of billiards like we do in Karl’s basement.

We’d hate to think those talented, funny guys spend every night, before going to bed, on their knees, praying to the comedy gods to keep Dunphy, Giles and creaky, old Bill alive. Whatever it takes,

Long enough to milk the last drop of laff juice from old men’s udders. Long enough to make that final, bittersweet mortgage payment.

We’d hate that very much.

Apres Match ‘Possibly So’ Tour 2010 (Ticketmaster)