GAH! Too late! The message on the page reads: THIS PROJECT IS FUNDED! Now I feel left out. I could have been in at the start but now I’m pressing my nose against the glass as the funders and the fundees smile inside.

IT WAS tough on Joe McHugh last week. Not a wet second into the job and already people were questioning his abilities.

I REMEMBER a few things from studying physics in school: How a fridge and headphones work and that the short questions in Section A were very handy for marks so make sure you do a good job on them, lads. One of the most memorable concepts was a bit more obscure — the moment of inertia.

About 14 months ago, I realised there comes a time in a man’s life when he gets too old for this hell raiser existence — when he wants to settle down and grow food for his table.

IT doesn’t lend itself to healthy eating, this World Cup.

IT HASN’T been easy but I have had to face reality. This will probably be my last World Cup.

POOR Robots. There’s always such pressure on them.

IT’S a lovely word: eavesdrop. I imagine a swallow pretending to spruce up its nest as it skitters along a centuries-old roof-overhang, listening to the conspirators make plans their inside the window.

IT’S never worth it. Even though this time last year in this same column I recommended it, I was talking through my fundament.

THE eyes have it. Blear. The previous night could be described as having been ‘a heavy one’.