short story

I’m All Right Jack Keep Your Hands Off My Stack

Irish farmers are complaining that Irish people should stop expecting to purchase Irish steak for €5. Supermarkets say €5 is as much as people are willing to pay for steak.

Irish farmers believe too much work goes into steak to be selling it for €5 and the very same supermarkets sell mouthwash for €5 which you essentially spit down the bathroom sink.

First of all, it is a really bad analogy, mouthwash lasts a month, steak is only good for one meal, you’re gonna be hungry the next day and there will be no steak to eat, but you will still have mouthwash.

Ireland prides itself on the quality of meat with stringent tests and quality control. But Irish people are broke as fuck and to be honest I know a lot of people who would struggle to pay €5. It seems in Ireland the business model during good economic times and bad  economic times is exactly the same: raise the price.

If lots of people are buying your product it is a case of raise the price we’ll make a fortune, if people are crippled by taxes and unemployment they think to themselves; nobody is buying our product, raise the price so the people who can still afford to buy our product will make up for what we are losing from the people not buying our product.

Of course such a business model plays into the hands of supermarkets like ALDI and LIDL as they offer cheaper alternatives. Quality products only get you so far, you’ll eat a lesser product if it means you can feed your children and put money aside for their school books and uniforms at the end of the week.

It’s called foresight, something most Irish business’ lack and a concept foreign supermarkets are taking full advantage of.

I don’t know what it is about Irish society that it turns on itself, but it inevitable does, it taxes the poor, it eats its young through immigration and non-existent child protection laws, and if the current government does indeed represent the interests of the majority maybe it is because the majority are selfish, greedy fuckwits.

The sheer greed of modern society is an absolute disgrace, it reminds of the short story The Lottery by Shirley Jackson, where they start out civilised and decent before quickly descending into premeditated and psychopathic murder.

My grandfather would be turning in his grave…if I hadn’t sold the plot and had him cremated…just joking, I removed his two gold teeth and wedding ring first. Cash For Gold give you a fair price on those. Saw the ad on the telly.




The young boy stumbles forward. His shoes flat on the metal of the crash barrier. Below him, a man in a small fishing boat stares up at the daredevil.
His father watches nonchalant.
His mother, on the opposite side of the road, turns to see her son walking across the crash barrier. She runs.
The Kodak camera lies broken on the opposite side of the road. The mother has the boy, holding him like China in her hands.
His father smiles that broken smile that never quite reached his eyes.
15 years later.
The Volkswagen drives over the bridge.
‘You lifted me onto that bridge when I was only learning to walk,’ the boy said.
The father smiles that broken smile. ‘You learned to walk, didn’t you?’

Sundays Story: Milo

I wrote Milo when I was eighteen and just finishing my final exams. I have no idea what it is about but it seemed like a great idea at the time as I scribbled it down in between studying Pythagoras’ theorem, reading science fiction books, comics, listening to The White Stripes, playing  Playstation games, and other forms of birth control

It’s from the short story collection The Good Life and I will be posting one story every Sunday. If you spot any typos, misspellings, bad grammar or if something feels off and you think you can improve it, feel free to point them out in the comments or use the contact form.