Spam: the disappointment in your inbox. The notification that turns out to be nothing. It is angrily disposed of.

Walking up the street after a night-out, home at a reasonable hour to let the babysitter go home, we saw it. A nightclub queue. One that was of proper Celtic Tiger length.

I swear they’re doing it just to spite me. They know it’ll drive me mad. One more insult. There is nothing more galling than two — no wait there’s another one — THREE FLIES at it hammer on tongs in the corner of the telly screen as you’re trying to catch up on episodes of a dark psychological Victorian thriller.

IT has been a surprising hit in the house: the screensaver, writes Colm O'Regan. 

You'll notice it as you go into the big clothes shops from now on: signs done in blackboard chalk-style, and a smell of thousands of sensible shoes, which are Fabrique en Vietnam or Laos or Myanmar. (Wherever labour laws are most lax).

I felt it slightly. Did you? Maybe not happiness when they were winning. But definitely disappointment when they lost.

THIS heat! The world is on its head, writes Colm O’Regan.

IT’S just a small tingle of emotion. Not as deep as other emotional moments, like, say, watching another country vote for the first time, or a goal scored from one of those counter-attacks in the World Cup, where the winger hoofs an arcing ball into the path of the striker, who has just run from his own penalty area and hits it without breaking stride.

I know we have to forget stuff. Biologically speaking, we need to put some experiences away.

FORGET the Papal visit. All I care about is the Potatal visit. Put the date in your diaries: 2021, the World Potato Congress will be held in Ireland.