and while they’re at it, the should take the mention of length of time to qualify for a divorce out of the constitution
[QUOTE=“TheUlteriorMotive, post: 1003277, member: 2272”]Somebody told me that an eminent journalist on sick leave ghosts a prominent former sports man and current thought leader and pundit’s articles
Suppose it was obvious[/QUOTE]
Initials of prominent former sports man and current thought leader and pundit?
She is D, delirious
She is I, incredible
She is S, superficial
She is C, complicated
She is O, oh, oh, oh
D I S C O
D I S C O
D I S C O
[QUOTE=“TheUlteriorMotive, post: 1003359, member: 2272”]She is D, delirious
She is I, incredible
She is S, superficial
She is C, complicated
She is O, oh, oh, oh
D I S C O
D I S C O
D I S C O[/QUOTE]
We dont have a “creative” rating so I am replying…
Creative
Outraged thejournal.ie users have set up an “outrage page” on Facebook to vent their frustration at anonymous readers pressing the “thumbs down” button in response to comments under articles.
Mary Duffy of Monaghan said “something had to be done”. “I was reading an article about a 78 year old man who died after being knocked down by a car in Cork. I left a comment “so sad, rip.” Then a minute later I saw somebody had given a thumbs down sign to my comment. So I responded again asking why somebody would do that. Then that comment got a thumbs down sign, and the whole comment section then turned into a row about people giving thumbs down signs and asking why people would do such a thing. This is about the tenth time this has happened to me after I left an “RIP” comment about somebody dying after being knocked down.”
When I asked “Anonymous”, who didn’t say where he/she lived, why they give thumbs down signs to such comments, they responded: “Because I’m fucking bored, have no life, and because I get a laugh out of making other people who have no life but are clearly very stupid act like children on the INTERNET over a matter of no fucking importance whatsoever.”
“I felt I had to do something, so I set up a Facebook page to deal with the problem”, said Mary. " I don’t know why people do this sort of thing. But it has to be stopped." The Facebook page currently has three followers and six “likes”.
[QUOTE=“TheUlteriorMotive, post: 1003359, member: 2272”]She is D, delirious
She is I, incredible
She is S, superficial
She is C, complicated
She is O, oh, oh, oh
D I S C O
D I S C O
D I S C O[/QUOTE]
O-m-G 
Petr Cechs “brilliant response” to some lad on twitter.
Thibaut Courtois has started both games for Chelsea this season ahead of Petr Cech and when one Manchester United fan mocked the Czech Republic keeper he probably wasn’t expecting this response.
The man with the record for the most clean sheets in the history of the [BCOLOR=rgb(255, 255, 255)]Premier League[/BCOLOR] was unimpressed when a United fan tweeted: “petr how’s your friend courtois doing in goal for Chelsea?.”
His response was very good:
http://www.independent.ie/incoming/article30534724.ece/BINARY/Cech.PNG
:rolleyes:
I can’t believe that merited an article, and I am worse for reading it.
Do your worst gentlemen. This is my first piece on a topic that I don’t have first-hand experience at. It ain’t anything special and it’s a first draft but maybe some paper somewhere might like it. I don’t know.
“HATS. FLAGS and HEADBANDS!?”
The cry is as much a part of the GAA match experience as the rusty turnstile and the over-priced programme. I decided to approach a “casual trader”, or “hawker”, as they’re universally known, and see what’s it’s like to be the one calling out that immortal phrase.
At first, John looks perplexed as to why anyone would want to ask him any questions other than, perhaps, “how much is that Monaghan flag?”. Nevertheless, he tolerates my presence with unfailing politeness, as himself and his sales assistant go about packing up. A job, I see, which involves the filing away of county colours with military prescision.
I begin with a variant of the “do you come here often?” line.
“30 years here”, he tells me.
What got him into it?
“I was unemployed and gave it a go and I’m still at it.”.
John’s from Pearse Street originaly but lives in Ballybough and prefers the hurlers to the footballers.
I’m shocked already, but admire his good taste. I ask him does he mind missing being at the football matches. Not really, as it happens.
”I’d be for the Dubs, d’you know what I mean? But, I’d rather the hurling than the football”.
I had looked up the rates for the casual trader licences on the Dublin Council website and tentatively asked John if he has one. “Oh yeah, I’m working right now. It’s €38 for Croke Park days and €25 for down the o2.”
If you want to make a living as a casual trader it seems you have to put the hours in.
“You have to be pro-active now”, John tells me. “Years ago there was a handful of us doing it and now there’s hundreds out”.
John tells me he’ll be out two hours before the first match of the day. I ask him if he just does Croke Park and he scoffs and tells me he’ll be at the o2 and anywhere else hosting a big event, all year round.
Casual traders selling hats, flags and headbands (with a nod to the enterprising ladies who sell 3 chocolate bars for a pound, out of a pram) have been around since the 1960’s. I asked the oldest person I have to hand, (my dad, 60), what they began selling. “Rosettes, paper hats and miniature dolls to wear on one’s chest”, he tells me.
I quickly see how hats, flags and headbands took over.
Whilst they need not diversify much, competition appears to have made the business even harder.
“You have your good days and your bad days”.
Dubs matches, I enquire, must be the best days?
John is quick to reply: “No. You’d be surprised. Dubs in an All-Ireland final, maybe, but what you want is a team that doesn’t get to Croke Park often, a team that hasn’t been up here in years. They buy the most souvenirs.”
I chance my arm and ask him who is best ever customers were. For a moment, he stares off into the distance, a grin grows on his face, and, eventually, he replies: “Donegal, 1992”.
Yeah?
“Yeah. I went up on the Saturday, the day before the final and I cleaned up.”
That heart-warming story aside, he has nothing but scorn for the “drunk northerners” who booze all the way down on the coach and then interfere with his stall when they get off the bus.
“Messy fuckers”, he says.
To round off I ask him will he be at the Limerick-Kilkenny Hurling semi-final the next day.
Almost before I finish the question he replies:
“Oh, rain, hail or snow. Rain, hail or snow.”
I was at that game myself and we had both rain and hail. Sure enough, there he was, plastic covers shielding his wares and extolling the virtues of a Limerick flag to a potential customer as I walked by.
That’s a very good angle, @Thrawneen. Nice piece. By way of information I attach a picture of a “favour” purchased at the 1948 hurling final presumably from a casual trader. If features a picture of John Keane stapled on to a blue piece of paper. It has pin marks at the top, indicating that you’d pin it on to your lapel (every man going to a match in those days would have worn a suit jacket). [ATTACH=full]1645[/ATTACH]
My uncles would regale me with stories from the 20s and 30s of traders selling orange boxes to short lads going into the terraces in Croke Park. The boxes would invariably collapse.
[QUOTE=“Thrawneen, post: 1007740, member: 129”]Do your worst gentlemen. This is my first piece on a topic that I don’t have first-hand experience at. It ain’t anything special and it’s a first draft but maybe some paper somewhere might like it. I don’t know.
“HATS. FLAGS and HEADBANDS!?”
The cry is as much a part of the GAA match experience as the rusty turnstile and the over-priced programme. I decided to approach a “casual trader”, or “hawker”, as they’re universally known, and see what’s it’s like to be the one calling out that immortal phrase.
At first, John looks perplexed as to why anyone would want to ask him any questions other than, perhaps, “how much is that Monaghan flag?”. Nevertheless, he tolerates my presence with unfailing politeness, as himself and his sales assistant go about packing up. A job, I see, which involves the filing away of county colours with military prescision.
I begin with a variant of the “do you come here often?” line.
“30 years here”, he tells me.
What got him into it?
“I was unemployed and gave it a go and I’m still at it.”.
John’s from Pearse Street originaly but lives in Ballybough and prefers the hurlers to the footballers.
I’m shocked already, but admire his good taste. I ask him does he mind missing being at the football matches. Not really, as it happens.
”I’d be for the Dubs, d’you know what I mean? But, I’d rather the hurling than the football”.
I had looked up the rates for the casual trader licences on the Dublin Council website and tentatively asked John if he has one. “Oh yeah, I’m working right now. It’s €38 for Croke Park days and €25 for down the o2.”
If you want to make a living as a casual trader it seems you have to put the hours in.
“You have to be pro-active now”, John tells me. “Years ago there was a handful of us doing it and now there’s hundreds out”.
John tells me he’ll be out two hours before the first match of the day. I ask him if he just does Croke Park and he scoffs and tells me he’ll be at the o2 and anywhere else hosting a big event, all year round.
Casual traders selling hats, flags and headbands (with a nod to the enterprising ladies who sell 3 chocolate bars for a pound, out of a pram) have been around since the 1960’s. I asked the oldest person I have to hand, (my dad, 60), what they began selling. “Rosettes, paper hats and miniature dolls to wear on one’s chest”, he tells me.
I quickly see how hats, flags and headbands took over.
Whilst they need not diversify much, competition appears to have made the business even harder.
“You have your good days and your bad days”.
Dubs matches, I enquire, must be the best days?
John is quick to reply: “No. You’d be surprised. Dubs in an All-Ireland final, maybe, but what you want is a team that doesn’t get to Croke Park often, a team that hasn’t been up here in years. They buy the most souvenirs.”
I chance my arm and ask him who is best ever customers were. For a moment, he stares off into the distance, a grin grows on his face, and, eventually, he replies: “Donegal, 1992”.
Yeah?
“Yeah. I went up on the Saturday, the day before the final and I cleaned up.”
That heart-warming story aside, he has nothing but scorn for the “drunk northerners” who booze all the way down on the coach and then interfere with his stall when they get off the bus.
“Messy fuckers”, he says.
To round off I ask him will he be at the Limerick-Kilkenny Hurling semi-final the next day.
Almost before I finish the question he replies:
“Oh, rain, hail or snow. Rain, hail or snow.”
I was at that game myself and we had both rain and hail. Sure enough, there he was, plastic covers shielding his wares and extolling the virtues of a Limerick flag to a potential customer as I walked by.[/QUOTE]
Well done Thraw - if you don’t mind me saying it brought to mind the Paddy O’Gorman pieces he does on TV on the common man. A good thing.
Thanks @Fagan ODowd . I’d like to get the history of hawkers down before I sign off on the piece, so to speak.
Thanks Spidey. P O’G would be a big influence!
I was waiting for the bit where you ended up riding his assistant
That’s in the 18s version for one of West Ham owners’ David Gold’s magazines.
[QUOTE=“Fagan ODowd, post: 1007758, member: 706”]
My uncles would regale me with stories from the 20s and 30s of traders selling orange boxes to short lads going into the terraces in Croke Park. The boxes would invariably collapse.[/QUOTE]
You can still buy a good solid crate at Clonmel for the coursing.
[QUOTE=“Thrawneen, post: 1007740, member: 129”]Do your worst gentlemen. This is my first piece on a topic that I don’t have first-hand experience at. It ain’t anything special and it’s a first draft but maybe some paper somewhere might like it. I don’t know.
“HATS. FLAGS and HEADBANDS!?”
The cry is as much a part of the GAA match experience as the rusty turnstile and the over-priced programme. I decided to approach a “casual trader”, or “hawker”, as they’re universally known, and see what’s it’s like to be the one calling out that immortal phrase.
At first, John looks perplexed as to why anyone would want to ask him any questions other than, perhaps, “how much is that Monaghan flag?”. Nevertheless, he tolerates my presence with unfailing politeness, as himself and his sales assistant go about packing up. A job, I see, which involves the filing away of county colours with military prescision.
I begin with a variant of the “do you come here often?” line.
“30 years here”, he tells me.
What got him into it?
“I was unemployed and gave it a go and I’m still at it.”.
John’s from Pearse Street originaly but lives in Ballybough and prefers the hurlers to the footballers.
I’m shocked already, but admire his good taste. I ask him does he mind missing being at the football matches. Not really, as it happens.
”I’d be for the Dubs, d’you know what I mean? But, I’d rather the hurling than the football”.
I had looked up the rates for the casual trader licences on the Dublin Council website and tentatively asked John if he has one. “Oh yeah, I’m working right now. It’s €38 for Croke Park days and €25 for down the o2.”
If you want to make a living as a casual trader it seems you have to put the hours in.
“You have to be pro-active now”, John tells me. “Years ago there was a handful of us doing it and now there’s hundreds out”.
John tells me he’ll be out two hours before the first match of the day. I ask him if he just does Croke Park and he scoffs and tells me he’ll be at the o2 and anywhere else hosting a big event, all year round.
Casual traders selling hats, flags and headbands (with a nod to the enterprising ladies who sell 3 chocolate bars for a pound, out of a pram) have been around since the 1960’s. I asked the oldest person I have to hand, (my dad, 60), what they began selling. “Rosettes, paper hats and miniature dolls to wear on one’s chest”, he tells me.
I quickly see how hats, flags and headbands took over.
Whilst they need not diversify much, competition appears to have made the business even harder.
“You have your good days and your bad days”.
Dubs matches, I enquire, must be the best days?
John is quick to reply: “No. You’d be surprised. Dubs in an All-Ireland final, maybe, but what you want is a team that doesn’t get to Croke Park often, a team that hasn’t been up here in years. They buy the most souvenirs.”
I chance my arm and ask him who is best ever customers were. For a moment, he stares off into the distance, a grin grows on his face, and, eventually, he replies: “Donegal, 1992”.
Yeah?
“Yeah. I went up on the Saturday, the day before the final and I cleaned up.”
That heart-warming story aside, he has nothing but scorn for the “drunk northerners” who booze all the way down on the coach and then interfere with his stall when they get off the bus.
“Messy fuckers”, he says.
To round off I ask him will he be at the Limerick-Kilkenny Hurling semi-final the next day.
Almost before I finish the question he replies:
“Oh, rain, hail or snow. Rain, hail or snow.”
I was at that game myself and we had both rain and hail. Sure enough, there he was, plastic covers shielding his wares and extolling the virtues of a Limerick flag to a potential customer as I walked by.[/QUOTE]
Good stuff thraw, although I think its the fear and loathing in Dublin angle you should be working.
@Thrawneen - I like the piece. My only comment is that its almost too safe - throw off the shackles a bit if you can.
Bear in mind I’ve a command of the English language similar to that of a Junior Cert student so I may not be the best judge in this case.
I like it, but who are you pitching it at?
As an aside @Thrawneen the hats flags and headbands is a relatively recent phenomenon. It used to be hats flags and rosettes. I’m not sure when the rosettes went out and the headbands came in but I think it was around the mid 90s. Until the 70s and possibly the 80s the hawkers would be in the ground walking up and down the aisles selling choc ices, pears, tubs of ice cream and bars of chocolate.
They are still in the aisles in Limerick. “ices, ices, get your ices”
I’ve a vauge memory of rosettes at matches in the early 90’s