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My dog, Finn, has had his second ACL (anterior cruciate ligament) surgery in three months. He now uses his cone (the Elizabethan collar they wear to stop meddling with the surgery site) as a weapon. He is thoroughly pissed off with having to wear it again.

Sometimes, it’s like he’s shaking his gorgeous little head to the song, Black Betty. In my late teens, this was my prime head-shaking song of choice. I would stand with my legs in a perfect stance for ultimate balance, slightly bent over and shake my head like I was in the head-shaking Olympics. Don’t Fear The Reaper, by Blue Oyster Cult was another favourite.

The feeble Finn of last week is gone and replaced with a rather frustrated, f*ck this for a game of soldiers, feisty Finn.

Buzz had enough of it and when Finn pushed him in the ass with his cone, he surreptitiously peed into it. Did he do it on purpose? No. Is he an opportunist? Perhaps.

Tomorrow, he gets his stitches out and no more cones. I am planning a pawty. As both his legs have new ligaments, he will be back to his, I’m faster than a speeding bullet, Finn, in five weeks.

Stay Fab

Adele

I was chuffed to be asked back by Dagogo and Samuel for Talkatives, which took place in The Project Arts Centre in Temple Bar. My niece was over for the Easter weekend, and she brought two of her friends. It was lovely to have them cheering me on.

When I arrived the inimitable Emmet ‘O Brien, renowned poet, and MC brought me into the green room.

• I said, Green Room?
• Yes, He said.

I thought he was taking the mickey, but there I was, brought into the Green Room.

• If I knew I would be in the green room I would have sent in my rider, I proffered to Emmet. He smiled and went about the business of organising the lineup of performances for the evening. BTW, my rider is…………Ah, I’ll keep you in suspenders until the end of my rider blogs.

I was on my own for a few minutes before the other girls arrived, and I began to think of what my rider would be. Over the years, I always enjoy hearing of the most ridiculous riders that some of the more divaesque and King-like performers request. Here are some

• Van Halen – No Brown M&Ms. …
• Beyoncé – Titanium Straws & Hand-Carved Ice Balls. …
• Kanye West – CYLINDRICAL VASES Only. …
• Rihanna – A Plush Animal Print Rug. …
• Drake – Always a Dozen Incense Sticks Burning. …
• Adele – The Marlboro & Gum Rule.

Over the next few blogs, I shall have some fun sharing some of the most ridiculous riders, where fiction reigns supreme.

You have been warned.

Stay fab

Adele

A Kangaroo playing with his didgeridoo/ X Rated

https://www.tiktok.com/@veronicadownunder/video/7457115066861702418

Back to the crass.

To wank, or not to wank? That is the question. In this case, the kangaroo chose the former and appeared to demonstrate with gusto how little he cared about being filmed. I must admit I have not seen many animals wanking. Maybe it is a documentary series Sir David Attenborough may consider filming. I don’t think it has been covered before.

The kangaroo is very comfortable in its self-pleasuring. Well, they are massive motherfu*k*rs, I am sure it is very common in the wild, after all, they have all the time in the world, in between foraging for food and hunting. Their motto could be, rest, hunt/forage/ wank, sleep.

I wonder if elephants wank? It would be a sight to see. What about swans? Maybe there is much more going on below the water, and their graceful, serene air of superiority.

All we know about animals in the wild is what is filmed. Gary Larson has always had great insight into the lives of animals. I reckon he has them sussed.

Stay fab

Adele

It appears the entire sexual harassment case was designed to remove the rights to subsequent films written by the author Colleen Hoover from Justin Baldoni. Blake mentions her need for ‘authorship’ in countless interviews and how she wishes to be perceived beyond her physical beauty.

‘Controlling the narrative’ is another phrase she utilises frequently and offers suggestions to the director. Perhaps Blake should write a book/ script to ensure she controls the narrative. I am sure she has many great skills and would excel at being a director too. Her husband, Ryan Reynolds, also enjoys editing scripts and taking over the direction of a movie.

Between Candace and Perez Hilton, daily updating viewers on TikTok of the machinations of the case, it has become riveting. Another TikTokker, Bee Better, has added his investigative expertise with surprising detail and insight.

And, of course, when all else fails,

And I no longer wish the negative narrative to prevail.

I can always write a ditty.

To reverse a state of mind, and return to being witty.

Blake and Baldoni

She made a claim.

Began a dangerous game.

Of cat and mouse.

Suspicions were aroused.

Was it unrequited infatuation?

Did she misread the situation?

Ryan threw a wobbler when he got the scent.

His controlling nature went into ascent.

The best form of defence is attack.

Did she have to get back like that?

Attempting to destroy her co-star and director.

This was low, even for her.

It’s now media fodder and propaganda at its best.

Let’s hope they settle and give us all a rest.

Stay fab

Adele

I admit I am obsessed with this case.  Last summer, It Ends With Us, by Colleen Hoover, was our chosen book for the book Club. A few of us went to see it in the cinema. On TikTok, random negative press relating to Blake Lively kept appearing. As usual, I took it with a pinch of salt, but it kept appearing. In particular, an interview with a journalist who said she considered leaving journalism following her interview with Lively, as she had been so rude.

Blake’s press tour did appear to be focused primarily on fashion. Grabbing the girls together to watch the movie with popcorn without mentioning the central theme, domestic violence, was her message. Many said her marketing of the movie was tone deaf.

I decided last summer to take a deep dive and noticed that the negative press became more frequent. Fast forward seven months and here we are with one of the most incredible lawsuits. Baldoni’s lawyer has created a website with every email, text message and document on the case, refuting Lively’s claims.

Without boring you with all the details, the appearance of Ryan and Blake on the SNL – Saturday Night Live 50th birthday celebrations was bizarre. Ryan set up a joke where he mocked the entire case where his wife had brought a sexual harassment case against her Director and co-star.

Ouch.

That hurt.

I just fell off my high horse.

Serves me right.

Stay fab

Adele

This is one of my favs. Where’s the modesty, I hear you cry. Gone for a cuppa, as I indulge myself in a little narcissistic poem.

Poem

I Think I Am a Narcissist

I think I am a narcissist I work at it every day.
I used to be an empath but I never got my own way.

I want to be a Youtube reality star as my life is such a hoot.
I never stop chatting. It’s all about me. I ‘m incapable of being mute.

I’ll list my worries, my woes, and my wishes.
If you are even slightly inattentive, you will be sacked as one of my bitches.

If I’m kind I’ll act the martyr. Virtue signaling is my thing.
Telling folk I give to the homeless makes me soooo understanding.

I’ll always create the drama and be mired in victimhood.
It’s really never my fault I am merely misunderstood.

I can be as useful as a jelly step ladder when it’s something I don’t want to do.
When it comes to the blame game. It’s never me, it’s all about you.

My primary concern is me, my life and my successes.
If this is not your concern, do one. You will be one less stressor.

I lack empathy. My greatest skill is gaslighting.
I could undermine the Pope. He’s really just attention seeking.

I am so talented, so grateful for my art.
But some people hear me and would rather smell a fart.

I think I am a narcissist but someone said I can’t be as I’m too fat.
I said you don’t need to be thin to be a narcissist you prat.

They said it’s a prerequisite if you’re to be a megalomaniac.
I told them to piss off and to kiss my giant crack.

I am Dustin the Turkey of spoken word.
A little bit crass a little bit witty and a little bit absurd.

My art is priceless It defies analysis.
Although someone said analyze is also anal eyes.
That my art is shit beyond surprise.

I want to be on RTÉ after all it’s all about me.

I try to be gritty and down-to-earth.
But I’m just too talented and a ridiculous flirt.

I met Sean Penn and Robin Wright in New York City.
He’s very small he only came up to my titties.

I’m from Artane and can be arcane.
I only said that to use the word arcane. Yeah. I know it’s insane.
Apparently it means esoteric, another beauty of a word.
It means I’m profound and deep. Some say a literary turd.

I can be clinical as for many decades I was a nurse.
And now I’ve decided to switch bedpans for verse.

I’m not the only one to bridge the gap between art and comedy.
John Cooper Clarke is the OG genius with Beasley street.

I am a national treasure I am just waiting to be found.
And I don’t think it matters whether I’m small, tall , thin or round.

By

Adele Leahy

I have named him Harry, don’t ask me why. He just looks like a Harry, less of a Henrietta or Helen.

Whenever we drive by, he is perched on the wall (of the M1 Motorway) posing. I notice everyone in their cars stop, to say hello.

He must be thinking – Look at me, aren’t I gorgeous? And, my goodness, but, yes, he is.

Apparently, they are rare in Ireland but the government has begun a re-wilding and conservation project which is proving successful ( I need a bit of re wilding myself come to think of it. )

They were extinct one hundred years ago in Ireland due to hunting and they are now fully protected here.

Buzz (my dog) isn’t sure of the Buzzard. I thought they would get on seeing as they have similar names. Buzz & Finn can smell all the neighbourhood Deliveroo he is getting and are most likely very curious and jealous.

One day I noticed he was eating raw chicken. Somebody had fed him half a raw chicken and he was in seventh heaven.

I can’t see him going anywhere soon. Why would he? When he has free Deliveroo every day and is a celebrity feathered visitor . I may get him a phone for his Deliveroo order to give him a buzz .

Stay fab

Adele

The birds were having a proper chirpy rave at 5 am this morning. One of the birdsongs reminded me of Insomnia by Faithless.

There are many robins where I live, including a wonderful variety of red-breasted. One has a heart-shaped red breast, and another appears to resemble a question mark. Swallows and goldfinches are numerous, too.

We have seagulls dancing in our field after the rain to catch their worms, and a couple of oystercatchers have joined the worm party.

But best of all, a beautiful Buzzard has been visiting for the last few months. At first, I thought it was a hawk but a diligent neighbour did his homework and revealed his true variety. I knew they ate mice and other rodents, but then my aunt (who has a farm in Cork) told me that they eat birds. They also eat roadkill (see M1 reference further down), rabbits (Easter will be a carnivorous picnic for him), and worms (Seagulls and Oystercatchers, guard your territory.)

All I could think of were my robins, swallows, and goldfinches. I began to feed it and noticed my neighbours doing the same thing. They are part of the Raptor family, which immediately made me think of Jurassic Park (and Sam Neill, who has me enraptured, young and older – couldn’t resist).

Stay fab

Adele

a poem about poetry

a poem is a portrait of the soul

it is incomplete and whole

vulnerable and bold

it can antagonise and cajole

aimless or towards a goal

meaningless yet foretold

cozy, warm or cold

it can shun my inner tension

and alleviate a disquieting sensation

it can relativise a situation

as a soother for my soul, did I mention

my inner child complex relation

the menacing inner spirit that seeks degradation

quelling ascension, reaping descension

a poem is an empty page

to store the rage

escape from the cage

from self-recrimination and blame

the soul to tame

in life’s wicked game

my poetry means

everything and

nothing

yet, it makes my soul sing

to fly on a wing – spread arms

of hope and serenity

a reconciliation with my

alacrity

impurity

purity

temerity

transparency

duplicity

fragility

vitality

vulgarity

humility

anxiety

serenity

a poem is love exploration

a vindication of my flaws

my ability to pause

reflect, detect a detestation

a conflation of love and hate

which my words will dissipate

fusing my mind and my heart

in words that are

magnificent

munificent

incandescent

reminiscent

pearlescent

acquiescent

evanescent

revivascent

indecent

concupiscent

detumescent

uncomplacent

omnificent

consent

Yet

Always

Always

Always

PRESENT

By

Adele Leahy