How? How would you be well & you’re sick, How would you be well & the ice caps meltin’ fairly quick. How would you be well & you’re gettin’ fleeced, How would you be well & all this shit in the Middle East. How would you be well & the price of a pint up 20 cent, How would you be well & you can’t afford the rent. How would you be well & you’re drafted into World War 3, How would you be well & crickets on Daft.ie . How would you be well & Trump won’t shut his gob, How would you

It was in the year of 26, In the dreary month of October, When the days were getting shorter, and the nights getting colder. With kippahs and falafel, For Stuttgart the Israelis began, Joxer and the boys stayed put in Dublin, Taking a defiant stand. It was supposed to be played in Lansdowne, but had to be moved abroad, UEFA cited security reasons, Oh for the love of God! When Stuttgart was named the neutral venue, Well Whacker thought “Oh great!”, He hadn’t set foot in German

A poem written on a plane.

It's snowing in Ireland. So, here's a poem called 'Snow Business'.

An old classic.

In the states, The Portal has moved to Philadelphia. In Ireland, it's still in Dublin for some reason.

This just in. Molly-Mae and Tommy Fury have split up. Fuckinel.

A poem about Spain v England in the final of Euro 24. Vamos, as the fella says.