The Dubliner Magazine

So this is where...

... the little bikes go to sleep

Eurotash...

... gets on their bike

The boys behind Eurotash, your compendium of upper lip hair and companion volume to Movember, are not afraid of getting out there and spreading the word about their book.

Particularly when the mode of transport is provided free of charge and it's a sunny day in Dublin.

Torturous Puns

The Sharp End of the Scissors

There's nothing new about hairdressers having pun names; just witness Hairport, Hair It Is, Hairitage, Thairapy and the wonderful Mane Attraction.

But sometimes those names can just go a little too far. Is a vasectomy really what you want being referenced when you go to get your locks trimmed? Is it?

The French are Quaking...

... dans leurs bottes

We might be feeling a bit miffed about being cast into the arena with the French, but at least we can take heart from the fact that they're not too happy about being landed with us either.

Le Monde, France's paper of record, has this to say about the match-up:

"Invaincus dans le groupe 8 des éliminatoires, avec notamment deux matchs nuls contre l'Italie, les Irlandais pourront également compter sur la science tactique de leur sélectionneur, l'Italien Giovanni Trapattoni. Nul doute que le maestro a déjà sa petite idée pour donner la leçon à Raymond Domenech. Face à une équipe toujours à l'aise dans le jeu aérien, les Bleus devront par exemple travailler leurs coups de pied arrêtés défensifs, véritable talon d'Achille de l'équipe de France depuis plusieurs saisons. "

"Unbeaten in Group 8 of the qualifiers, notably drawing in their two matches against the Italians, the Irish can count on the tactical science of their manager, the Italian Giovanni Trappatoni. Undoubtedly the master already has ideas about teaching [French coach] Raymond Domenech a lesson. Up against a team who are comfortable in the air, the French team will have to work on their defending of set pieces, which has been their Achilles heel for some time."

Good to know the fear is not just one way. Allez les bleedin' verts!

#10 Thou Shall...

... let people off the train before you get on

This isn't rocket science. We are getting off, you are getting on. Wait for us to disembark first.

Then you can pile onto the DART and fight for the last sticky seat back to Clontarf. People in Tokyo, New York, London and bloody Ulan Bator have grasped this, why do middle-aged office workers from Shankill still struggle with the concept?

#9 Thou Shall Not...

...  'Pokerface' out loud on your mobile in the bus/train/lift

Oh fantastic! Those lovely young ladies in the black Top Shop leggings and pink/apricot t-shirts have decided to grace their fellow travellers with some tunes from their mobiles. Ah tinny bliss!

 Listen you little gits:

1.Buy a real ghetto blaster

2.No one wants to hear your shittingly bad music on your ghetto blaster anyway

#8 Thou Shall Not...

... stop moving when thou come to the end of the escalator

That device is there to speed up travel. Not to give you a tiny little thrill every time you enter a building higher than two storeys. When you get to the end of it, move to the side. The last thing the Stephen's Green shopping centre needs is a six ponce pile-up.

In fact when you're on the escalator, stand to the side too. Left is for standing, right is for walking. That's all.

#7 Thou Shall Not...

... be a Spanish student and congregate in the middle of Grafton Street

 The pavement is a crowded place and like all crowded places – lifts, Japan, Jordan's knickers – it has to have its own etiquette. Don't block the entire street because you're lollygagging at some busker and giving him a 50 metre spectator diameter. It's not Carnegie Hall – it's a public thoroughfare for people to get to and from work amigos.

Walk at a steady pace. Don't jostle people. Don't stop abruptly. Don't smash people's shins with your buggy. Don't walk three abreast, then glare at people because they don't want to play Red Rover with you and your pals. Don't blindly flick fags behind you.

And please please please look up from you phone occasionally, no matter how important the text is.

#6 Thou Shall...

... have thy own cigarettes and not ask strangers

You know how much smokes cost these days? They're about 43 cents a pop my man. If I started handing out fags to every Tom, Dick and Harry who tapped me I'd be in the hole for, well, about €1.29.

Not too bad actually, but every day? And every time I have a drink outside... in a place specifically designated for the consumption of beverages? Give us a break scroungers.

It's enough to make you quit, you pricks.

#5 Thy Motorcycle...

... shall have a muffler fitted

Cars have to have them installed, so why not motorbikes? The sound of a 50cc high-pitched flatulent flea flying up the street at two o'clock in the morning is just what I need to help me get back to sleep. And that thunderous roar from your Harley's guts that makes me cack my pantaloons as you speed past me on Nassau Street?

Leave it out.