THE song should never have been a hit anywhere because its title was weird: ‘Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah’. (Translation: ‘Hello Mother, Hello Father’.) It should certainly never have been a hit in Ireland because the entire song was about something we didn’t have back in the 1960s: Summer camps.

Where there’s a will, there’s a shedload of trouble, which is why I love the cable channel devoted to telling the story of wills and the murder and mayhem they generate.

IT WAS an impulse purchase, let’s be honest. The man in my life became briefly insufferable about all the diseases he could not get because of all the vaccinations he’d had, so I decided to take a prescription out of his book, so to speak, and get the flu jab.

WHETHER it’s a brilliant idea that morphs into a failed stroke, or a cock-up that started with the best of intentions, there’s a time to raise the hands and say you got it wrong.

TIM ‘Boomer’ Carroll is a friend of mine. A Boston-Irish firefighter, he is. Don’t ask me what the ‘Boomer’ stands for. Something sporting, probably. Boomer loves Ireland. Starting with its literature.

I’M insulted about not being asked to attend a think-in.

Joan Rivers could get away with being cruel about other people as long as she was harsh about herself, writes Terry Prone.

Terry Prone reflects on our over reliance on technology and why instant messaging does not make us productive.

IF the neighbours weren’t used to it, they’d demand the destruction of my house. It is one of the ugliest buildings in the neighbourhood. In fact, it wins the prize for being ugly, leaky, and disfunctional.

The concept of the “must have” died off a bit during the worst of the recession. The “must have”, back in the days of disposable income, was a dress, pair of shoes or handbag advertised as such, in a catalogue or by a web retailer.