THEY say you shouldn’t write anything online you wouldn’t like to see on the front page of the New York Times the next morning.

GER WOLFE jumps out of bed at 7am every morning and it isn’t long before he’s pedalling out of the driveway.

IF Fleet Street was still filled with the sound of clacking typewriter keys and the industrial whirr of print-rooms, they would have fell silent this week for a moment.

I LANDED my job in the Irish Examiner by pitching a half-baked idea — cold — to the sports editor.

SOMETIMES you wake up with a bright idea and just go with it.

TONIGHT, in Dean Swift’s shadow and behind the famous college green arch, thousands of Trinity students and graduates will fill the many squares and greens that make up the Dublin city centre university campus.

IT’S often I look in bewilderment at an article in the sports pages with an expression similar to those which Usain Bolt’s competitors convey as the Jamaican sprinter glides past like he’s on rails.

EVER have that nightmare where you’re rowing the Indian Ocean in a 23ft-long boat, surrounded by sharks, the sun is melting the skin on your back, you’re eating out of tins, going to the toilet in a bucket... and you’re naked? No, me neither. But meet the Irishman who plans on living that dream for 150 nights.