This author writes under the pseudonym of journalist Paul Howard. His works are characterized by a distinctive style and a deep insight into the human psyche. He explores complex relationships and moral dilemmas that shape our lives. Readers appreciate his ability to draw them into the story and provoke thought.
Facing a midlife crisis, Ross O'Carroll-Kelly grapples with turning 40, unemployment, and impending divorce. His life spirals as his mother declines in a nursing home, his father’s actions threaten national security, and family drama unfolds with a potentially illegitimate child. Amidst chaos, including the co-ed transformation of Castlerock College, Ross remains optimistic, recalling Father Fehily's wisdom about endings leading to new beginnings. This final installment promises humor and insight into the complexities of life and family.
The Number 1 Bestseller! "Ross is a national institution" - Irish Times * * * 'The name's O'Carroll-Kelly. Ross O'Carroll-Kelly.' As the great James Bond said, 'History isn't kind to men who play God.' How right the dude ended up being. My secret double-life was finally catching up with me. Sorcha wanted a divorce. I was facing jail time for taking my orse out in a pub in Cork. And there was a very good chance that my sister-in-law's surrogate baby was actually mine? One by one, all of the goys turned their backs on me. Then came an unexpected plot twist. From beyond the grave, Fr Fehily - the M and the Q to our Leinster Schools Senior Cup-winning team - sent us all on one final mission . . . To walk the Camino - or die trying! It's, like, double oh fock! * * * "One of the funniest writers in the country" - RTÉ Radio One "Laugh-out-loud funny" - Anton Savage, Newstalk "A legendary anti-hero" - Business Post
When a shameless rugby legend and a distinguished grey lady get together sparks are bound to fly. And when that legend is South Dublin's favourite socialite, Ross O'Carroll-Kelly, and the grey lady is the Irish Times, the result is, well, legendary. From locked-in in Donnybrook to locked-down in Killiney, Ross and the old gal have been through a lot. Now, you can enjoy the very best of his efforts to keep her entertained . . . - His adventures with the Mount Anville Moms WhatsApp group - His daughter Honor's infamous production of South Side Story - His father's court battles with Denis O'Brien - His wife Sorcha's efforts to force her banana bread on the neighbours - His son Ronan's attempt to make it as a Mixed Martial Arts fighter From the sheer joy of taking his feral triplets to their first Ireland v. England match, to the sheer misery of Kielys pub (his spiritual home) closing down, to the pants-shitting tension of taking Honor to Electric Picnic - they're all here! And this new edition includes all new material from 2021 - lest we forget! As the Grey Lady herself would no doubt say- 'That was some ride, Ross!'
Ridicule is a prevalent aspect of modern politics, often used to demean opponents and sway public opinion. However, it can also erode the foundations of political discourse, turning debate into hostility and silence. In contemporary discussions, some commentators express concern that ridicule is replacing more sincere forms of political engagement. Theorists of deliberative democracy argue that ridicule can be uncivil, trivializing, or morally questionable. Conversely, others believe that a politically vibrant society will naturally include ridicule as a tool against authoritarian figures who struggle to endure it. This book provides historical context by examining the role of ridicule in eighteenth-century Britain, a time when its place in politics was intensely debated. The 1690s saw a surge in political and religious satire following the easing of censorship and the deregulation of printing, particularly around the Toleration Act. Critics warned that excessive ridicule could harm character, undermine religion, and incite civil discord. Yet, defenders like the Third Earl of Shaftesbury viewed ridicule as a crucial means to challenge the arrogance of fanatics and zealous clerics, who posed threats to toleration. The author explores Shaftesbury's influence and how his followers and critics navigated the responsible use of ridicule in political and religious debates.
'One of the funniest writers in the land ... Schmidt Happens will be lapped up by fans' Irish Independent I've had some pretty bad New Year's Eves in my life. But this one was officially... The! Worst! Ever! My wife had just given birth to a baby that wasn't mine. My son had just walked out on his bride-to-be on the eve of their wedding. And my old dear was making threats of revenge against me for allowing her to choke on the olive from her breakfast Martini. Throw into the mix three infant sons who were banned from every public park and children's play centre in the city; a father who was working with dodgy Russian business interests to put himself in the Taoiseach's office; and a daughter who was about to do something truly shocking - even by her standards. But then, one day, totally out of the blue, I received a very unexpected phone call... And let's just say that Schmidt got real. 'Ross is a national institution, and his adventures continue to chart the foibles and fortunes of modern-day Dublin with wicked humour and sharp observation' Irish Times 'Hilarious' Woman's Way
My friend, Fionn, was being held hostage in, I don't know, Unganga Nanga, and the Government was refusing to send in a team of marines to extract him. Pack of focking cauliflower worriers ... I wouldn't have minded being bound and gagged in a basement - just for some peace and quiet. My wife was up the spout again. My daughter had grown into a mix between Suri Cruise and a Chucky doll. And one or two other chickens - well, birds - were coming home to roost. Suddenly, I realized what I had to do - go and get Fionn back. Except what I didn't realize was that Unganga Nanga was no country for old tens.
THE NUMBER ONE BESTSELLER Ireland, Ireland - no longer standing Dáil ... Leinster House had been burned to the ground. All that was left was a smouldering ruin and the blackened remains of an Irish flag. The old man was trying to pin the blame on Brussels, but I knew the actual truth? Unfortunately, Sorcha was too angry with me for having sex with our daughter's Irish teacher to listen. But I had, like, other irons in the - pordon the pun - fire. I'd just become Head Coach of the Ireland rugby team - albeit, women. The country might well have been focked. But very soon, we had everyone believing in fairy tales again. And it all happened once upon a time in . . . Donnybrook _______ 'Ross is a national institution' Irish Times 'In a league of his own' Business Post
I was a rugby player with a great future behind me. A 35-year-old father-of-five with an expanding waistline, who was trying to survive the bloody battlefield we call life. My son was locked in a violent turf war with a rival Love/Hate tour operator, my daughter was in love with a boy who looked like Justin Bieber, and my old dear was about to walk up the aisle with a 92-year-old billionaire who thought it was still 1936.I was, like, staring down the barrel of middle age with the contentment of knowing that I was the greatest Irish rugby player who no one in Ireland had ever actually heard of. Until a chance conversation with an old Jesuit missionary made me realize that it wasn't enough.I was guided, as if by GPS, to a muddy field in - let's be honest - Ballybrack. And there I finally discovered my destiny - to keep a struggling Seapoint team in Division 2B of the All Ireland League.Or die trying.'Hides a heart of darkness beneath the layers of craic and great gas and great story-telling and human warmth. Ross O'Carroll-Kelly is Ireland!' Irish Times'A cracking and hilariously witty read' Irish Independent'Book after book, Ross O'Carroll-Kelly delivers the goods ... Howard is in a league of his own' Sunday Business Post
That risk assessor ex of Sorcha's turned out to be right - it really was the end of the world as we knew it ...See, I thought the porty was going to last forever. I certainly didn't believe the current economic blahdy blah was going to affect people like me. But as I watched the shutters fall, one by one, on all my old haunts - Renards, Mint, Guess Meanswear - I was forced to question all the truths that I once held as sacred.Sorcha's boutique was bleeding me dry, the Deportment of Social Welfare had stuck two yahoos in the penthouse next door, while Oisinn - his business empire in ruins - hadn't been seen since he porked his cor at Dublin Airport and took off for who knows where.'Isn't it wonderful?' the old man went. 'Times like these, they bring out the best in people like us.'But just when I thought the recession couldn't get any worse, an unexpected twist in the tale threatened to take away the most precious thing in the world to me.
The century is not yet a teenager, yet everything is shrouded in gloom . . . People are tightening their belts, rationing and making do. Across Europe, there is uncertainty, with the possibility of, like, serious conflict hanging in the air. Yet, amidst the splendour of Honalee - a mock-something-or-other mansion in Killiney that we recently inherited - life goes on. The world is changing quickly - especially for me. As I stare down the barrel of middle age, I've decided that it's time to possibly do right by Sorcha and put our marriage back together. But I have even bigger challenges to face. My son has hitched his future to a family of commoners, my old dear is involved in a love affair that threatens disgrace for the family, and my daughter has turned into the worst little madam you can imagine. Oh, yeah, and I'm about to become a grandfather at 31. As Sorcha embraces her new life of afternoon teas on fine bone china plates and Downton Abbey theme porties, I'm suddenly wrestling with duty, loyalty and the thousands of women out there who still desire the pleasure of my company. Praise for Ross O'Carroll-Kelly: 'Unremittingly funny.' RTÉ Guide 'To borrow a great critic's phrase about the rugby player Paul O'Connell: if you are what you eat then Paul Howard must have been eating a focking legend. (The great critic was Ross O'Carroll-Kelly.).' Irish Times 'Will leave your cheeks hurting from laughing' Irish Farmers.' Monthly
