Made by my head
Music, Ireland. Grey, name. My name. A step ladder. This house was built in a bog. Music is the window. I fell off a step ladder.

Saturday, November 26, 2005


Music. The Stars of Heaven.

I threw out a lamp, and then it appeared on Ski Sunday. It won a downhill race, and after it won, the first thing the TV interviewer said to it was, "The person who threw you out must be kicking himself now." I knew they'd ask that.

78. 41. 17. A plastic bat. I'm playing bingo with the pig. 85. I knew they'd ask about the pig too.

Band: The Stars of Heaven.

Albums: Speak Slowly,

Sacred Heart Hotel.

After listening to The Stars of Heaven, most other bands make me want to poke my brain out with something pointy I found in a dump.


Saturday, November 19, 2005


Music. Julie Feeney.

I wrote a poem about my feet but my feet will kick a tree if I read it. I don't know what a tree has to do with it.

I was going to write a poem about people who buy leprechauns against the advice of friends and family, and pretend they're happy with their purchase, even after the leprechaun starts eating washing powder. I read them the poem about my feet instead, only I replaced the words 'my feet' with 'your leprechaun'. They hit me with a shovel. I don't know what a shovel has to do with it either.

Julie Feeney.

Album: 13 Songs.

She makes most other singers sound as if they were taught how to sing by a man who does most things with a sledge hammer.


Saturday, November 12, 2005


Music. Whipping Boy.

The teaspoons are fighting with each other again. I tell them I'm Che Guevara to keep them quiet. They respect me then. Sometimes I wonder if that respect is mis-placed.

I thought I lost my shoulder in a field, but it was on my head all along. No, I'm thinking of my glasses. My shoulder is in the garden, trying to convince the neighbours that he's Che Guevara.

Band: Whipping Boy.

Album: Heart Worm.

They make everything else in the world look as if it was made in Switzerland.


Saturday, November 05, 2005


Roisin Murphy

I'm throwing pieces of paper at a lemur until he tells me what a lemur is.

I painted my house blue. My neighbour says she has a Phd in blue and my house is green. Even the lemur thinks it's blue, and I didn't have to throw anything at him to get him to say that.

I told the ducks they couldn't sing and now their song is at number one and it's about the ice cream cone that was on my head when I told them they couldn't sing. This undermines what I said about the paint, especially seeing as I have an ice cream cone on my head again. And the lemur is letting the air out of the tyres on my car. This also undermines the lemur's position on the colour of my house.

Roisin Murphy.

Album: Ruby Blue.

She makes most other singers look like they're trying to talk a cat into doing something it doesn't want to do.


He shoots, he scores, he glues himself to a lilac tree. Let's kick him.

A walk in the rain - Poetry. Ireland. Reading the news with no trousers.
Very Slight Stories - Very short stories.
Henry Seaward-Shannon - Slightly longer short-stories.

More blogs about music.


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