It All Comes Together For Local Writers At Open Mic’ Night


The ‘Thursday Night Writers Group’ from Tralee at their open mic’ night. 

THE ever growing, ever popular ‘Thursday Night Writers’ group, based here in Tralee, held another of their open mic’ nights in the Abbey Inn last Friday night, to great success.

Situated amongst the plush and cosy environs of the popular bar on Bridge Street, the large group of talented writers, poets, songwriters and screen writers gathered together to showcase their work.

Not the first time that the group has held an open mic’ night, it was an evening designed to allow the writers and other members of the public the chance to come down and talk about their works, read their pieces aloud, receive feedback and just generally enjoy their own small bit of culture on a Friday night.

“The group is really just a place where writers of all forms can get together on a weekly basis to share their work, get writing prompts and meet socially really because writing at times can be a very solitary thing,” said Barbara Lovric, one of the organisers of the night.

“We’re open to all age groups, with people in their late teens to their late sixties coming to the meetings already. It’s a great friendly group of people and we meet every Thursday night from about 7:30 to 9:30 upstairs in the Abbey Inn” she finished.

The group can be found at ‘Thursday Night Writers Tralee’ on Facebook where they provide details of meetings, writing competitions and events coming up both nationally and internationally.


My Awkward Life | The Door


My Awkward Life | The Door

I’ve just finished taking photos at an event and everything has gone smoothly.

I’m on my way out of the building where I meet two guests who I’ve photographed, they’re standing right next to the exit.

With a smooth flick of my hand, I bid them farewell and turn for the door, congratulating myself on being so suave.

I reach for the door and find it locked…

‘Odd’ I think.

That’s when I realise that I’m at the emergency exit, to be used, obviously only in the case of emergencies.

Well I for one, not wanting to turn back around and walk through the crowd of people after my shambolic mistaken door mishap, decide that my predicament equates to an emergency.

I slightly force (yes force) open both (yes both) of the emergency exit doors, praying with every fibre of my body that it’s not alarmed (it’s not) and make my way out.

With the door really not wanting to close behind me, I just walk briskly off…leaving the emergency exit door completely open (propped open with my enduring embarrassment) to whatever thieves, scoundrels and/or alcoholics that want to enter sneakily.

Some say it never closed properly after this.


I’ll just leave this here…

My Awkward Life | The Traffic Lights


My Awkward Life | The Traffic Lights

We’ve been waiting at the traffic lights a while now, my group of ragtag companions and I.

Well when I say companions, I actually mean the two separate individuals that I have no affiliation or connection with whatsoever and who I have just happened to stand next to on the street. 

There’s the very sweaty, grumpy looking bald man who, of course, I’ve chosen to name Fred. 

Then we have the leather jacket man who has tattoos running up the back of his neck, a weather beaten face and eyes that have no doubt seen too much.

I’ve, as you can no doubt guess, named him Joseph (Duh).

You see, we’re trying to cross the road and right now, we’re really not having much success at all. 

As the closest one to the all important traffic light button, Joseph is of course the leader of our motley crew and the person that I assume has pressed the button to allow us to cross said road. 

Eh? Maybe not, it seems.

The little green man who lives in the traffic lights and controls the flow of people over his road bridge like some of fairy tale troll has seemingly decided today that: 

‘Nah mate, gonna call in sick; be grand’. 

That scoundrel. 

As I was a late arrival to our merry fellowship and this quest, I’m sort of out of the loop as what our ‘road crossing’ plan actually is as a result. 

‘I mean, has he even pressed the button?’ I think to my self, looking longingly over at the round metal device on the pole.

‘It’s entirely possible that he hasn’t…he might have just assumed, like me, that it had been pressed by someone else…I’ll just give it a few more seconds,’

‘This has been a really long wait…he mustn’t have pressed it…I mean, seriously…who doesn’t press the button straight away…’

Treasonous thoughts suddenly begin to creep into my psyche, my mind suddenly beginning to question the leadership of this Joseph character. 

‘Maybe I should press it…’ my hand twitching ever so slightly at the thought of this. 

‘No! I can’t be that guy who just comes along and presses the button when someone has clearly already pressed it! Those people are the worst…I can wait this out’ I reassure myself.

Another thirty seconds passes with no sign of the little green man and his traffic slowing down abilities…

‘This is the longest that anyone has ever had to wait…ever. Why has no-one else (AKA Fred) not noticed this wait?’

I glance over at my bald headed companion and nothing; not a single look of wonder or confusion on his face about the delay.

‘Classic Fred move; cool as a cucumber that fellow, can’t phase him’ I think.

‘That’s it, I’m pressing it and to hell with Joseph and this social etiquette!’ I decide as I move toward the button and salvation

Suddenly though, a movement across the street stops me dead in my tracks.

A businessman, dressed immaculately in a pin striped suit, saunters up and just presses his own button, cool as you like.

Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep. 

All of a sudden, the lights turn red, traffic stops and we’re crossing the road, all in the blink of an eye. 

‘Well, that escalated quickly’ I think. 

Now, in the end, I’ll never know whether it was the businessman pressing it that allowed us to cross or whether Joseph had actually pressed it originally and it just took a while to register, I guess that’s just part of the mystery of it all. 

Myself, Fred and Joseph all went our seperate ways at at the other side, I mean, we all had actual things to do that day.

And while we’d never actually spoken a single word to each other and they’d never ever know what silly part they played in the silly drama inside my head, we would forever be bonded as those people that waited far too long to cross a simple street. 

Peace out, hombres. 


That’s an exit.

My Awkward Life | The Small Talk

MeI’m sitting in Four Star Pizza, waiting for my order to be ready.

Because I’m sitting here at a table on my own, it’s obvious that I’m just here to collect my pizza and head away.

What is also painfully obvious is that I’m currently the only customer in the whole restaurant, I mean, it’s literally  just me, a lot of empty tables and the people working here.

Which of course makes all of my movements all the more noticeable.

So, not wanting to seem like the ‘impatient, desperate for pizza’ type in front of the Four Star employees behind the counter, I decide a plan is needed. 

‘Right, I can’t let them think anything of me, except normal things’ I think so obviously I decide that I should adopt a relaxed/devil-may-care air about me while I wait. 

Slide down a little in the seat? 


Stretch my arms out casually? Check.

Bring up Facebook on my phone so and scroll idly through my news-feed to look like I’m occupied? 

Check, check, check. 

“Excuse me sir? Did you say you wanted chicken on that?” asks the Four Star employee from behind the counter?

“I did indeed, that’d be perfect, thanks” I reply nonchalantly. 

‘God damn it Dennehy, you are being one smooth son of a gun right now! You answered that like some sort of professional relaxed person, we are in the clear here buddy!’ I think proudly to myself. 

“Hey man, how are you?” comes a voice from across the room. 

Glancing up only for a second, I only see a delivery man for Four Star standing there and not knowing anyone that works here, I decide that it can’t be me he’s talking to and so I go back to looking busy on my phone. 

“Man, what’s up?” the delivery guy says again, this time coming straight over to me. 

I glance up again, completely not mentally ready for any sort of conversation and realise, ‘Sheeeit, I know this guy’s face…but not his NAME’. 

‘Think quickly!’ I tell myself. 

“Hey DUDE, how are you getting on?” I say back all too quickly, my words mashing together like a crowd on a dance floor. 

“Ahh I’m not doing too bad now. What about you?” he says, in a perfectly calm and easy going tone. 

‘This guys got the small talk skill nailed down’ I think inwardly. 

“I’m grand out sure….and you?” I say back, before realising my mistake…


Oh, God.

“Uh, I’m good…” he says, now looking me a little strangely, “I’m working away sure,” he continues.

“Yeah, ha it’s…uh…got to be done though” I say, my laugh coming out a little too forced, my eyes contact now having drifted from his face to the floor. 

“Right, I better be off, see you around…” he says as he walks out. 

“Cool, cool,” I respond in garbled English, as my pride mind descends into a hell of embarrassment.  

A few minutes later, my pizza is ready, I thank the pizza girl in a carefully measured tone (having been practicing it for the last few minutes in my head) and off I head.

I am the awkward bee. 


What is life…


Some Truly Excellent (Terrible) Puns


‘Pun Dog’ knows the game.

I made some truly excellent puns a while back, here’s the story behind it all: 

I attended a party in Killarney a few months back, it was for my grand-uncle’s 85th birthday and it turned out to be an excellent evening, full of reunions with cousins, aunts, uncles and everyone in between.

While I was there though, the conversation reached a point that all conversations reach at one point or another; the dreaded Lull or Silence. 

We all have experiences of this Lull; one minute, the conversation is fast flowing and witty and everyone is ‘on point’ as they say, when suddenly, WHAM.


A silence that goes on a little longer than anyone in the group is comfortable with, a silence that needs to be filled before it borders on that word we all strive to avoid using:


The following excellent (terrible) puns were borne by me, out of such a silence.

Feel free to laugh out loud and or share them with your pun hating friends. 



Fork you.


It really was.


Are you cringing yet?


A particular favourite of mine.


Still going strong.






A weak moment.


He rallies!


I can see a smile stretching across your face, don’t deny it.


Orange you?




It really was, I hope you survived it.

Wow, thanks for reading this far down, you’re the real MVP.