How Not to Be A Rapist

Lads, it is not easy these days. What with the feminists and the social media and the video cameras. It is getting harder and harder to go out and have a good time without someone crying rape.

What can be done about it? How can we reset this imbalance? How can we change it to make ourselves accepted into society again? How can we stop these liberal new age ideals from crippling our ability to have a good old fashioned “laddish” time?

Read on because you are in luck. I have the answers.

Here are my credentials

I have gotten through forty-one years of my life without raping anyone. With one in four women in the world sexually assaulted or raped, that is no mean feat. That’s almost 1 BILLION women. That is a monstrous statistic. That is a serious amount of sex assaulters and rapists. How did it get to be such a big number? Most of us are alright, right?

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Dealing with the Paedophiles

When Ivan Payne was having his charge sheet read out to him in court nearly twenty years ago, I was sitting in the gallery looking down. There was the paedophile priest who had sexually abused me in handcuffs in front of the Irish Courts of Law. I watched in a surreal haze. I had smoked a spliff earlier in the morning to help get me through it.  I felt OK. It felt like everything had come full circle.

In the aftermath I don’t remember the papers extolling his priestly virtues. I don’t remember the Catholic Church waxing lyrical about his empowering sermons or his inspirational work as a marriage guidance priest. Nobody came to the defence of this man who pleaded guilty to his sins. Aside of course, from those who were legally obliged and paid to do so.

There was no social media frenzy as it didn’t exist then. There were no rogue priests

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Vomit in the time of Darkness

They say that the first puke is the deepest. It growls deep in your guts. It swirls and clogs, heaves and plunges until the stomach cannot take it anymore. It erupts and spews through the throat, out the mouth and into the world. I always feel relief when I vomit. I always feel like it …

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The World is a safer place today…and here is why

Go for a walk. Get some fresh air. Clear the head. Then come in and put on the kettle. Have a cuppa. Sit back on the couch and let reality set in. It is OK. It is just another day and you are going to be OK. One of the great things about being a …

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Joe Brolly meets Donald Trump

Luckily enough for Joe Brolly he has a day job. And a seasonal job.  He slithers around the RTE studio and waxes lyrical about all things GAA. He squirms around like some chubby schoolboy, caked into his uniform. He tries to be the most outlandish and considering his colleagues are dry shite and cute hoor, then it’s never too difficult.

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Fuck the begrudgers

I’m staying in a room called “The Brendan Behan Room” here in a small B&B in Tralee. Jaysis, if that’s not a sign to get writing for Sober Paddy again, then I’m a giant fairy unicorn strapped to a fading Universe.

Driving down here from Dublin last night was glorious. The sky turned from pastel pink to peachy make-up orange. Distant jets etch-a-sketched the atmosphere. The moon was there suddenly. Tonight it decided to go with a crescent little number; an Arabian theme perhaps?

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