It’s not relevant, it won’t help our search rankings (because we have to compete with all them thaoghairetical physicists out there), but it’s the sort of title you come up with when you’ve found yourself, not once, but twice in the Hieronymous Bosch horrorshow that is Tesco in Ringsend. No garlic or bananas, but plenty of garlic bread, and streams of banana Yazoo for the fiends. There was a live man in the queue doing chickenlingus on a whole roast bird, right through the plastic. I left with some orange squash, some Panda peanut butter, and an old grapefruit I wrestled off a slightly older lady.

I came home and lost my appetite to the sound of someone vomiting out the back door of a neighbouring house.

Anyway, I guess to make it relevant, I’ll pretend I’m talking over the PA system in a real Centra. Do they have a PA? Or do they just do Adrian Kennedy phone show?

Attention all shoppers:

Quick change of plan! Due to a total bummer all around, Charlie Connelly won’t be able to curate Wednesday’s Chaos Thaoghaire. We’re bummed. We hope he’ll give us a raincheck because he’s deadly.

But don’t fret!

You there, in the “I’d do me” shirt! You can read Nuts when I’m done here .

We will be expertly curated, amused, delighted and otherwise charmed by the newly-wed Mr Jaime Nanci Barron, whom you will remember from February’s Sex Chaos (you can listen to his story “I’m TALKING to Nick NOLTE” here: http://chaosthaoghaire.com/uploads/jamie.mp3).

That baguette is not for sale!

We will also be joined by screenwriter, everything-writer, all-around excellent woman, Mary Kate O’Flanagan, telly producer Jimmy Duggan, and nonspecific media what’s-the-opposite-of-darling and Chaosette, Me, telling a true and also truthy tale that is sure to lose me the respect of my remaining peers.

As usual, Chaos Thaoghaire will kick off at around 7:30, upstairs in The Odessa Club, Dame Court, Dublin 2.

This joke is getting old! I’ve always wanted access to a PA system, but I forgot to think of something to say.

Where was I?

Since I’m easily frightened by chewing gum, spiders, Jeff Buckley’s singing, and my local supermarket, sometimes I go to the Baggot Street Tesco, where no one knows how to fashion a Chipstick into a shank. Not too long ago — like maybe two weeks ago — I saw these stickers.

If you have a set of eyes and they’re connected to a brain, it will take you less than two weeks (or two weeks less than it took me) to notice that these are all over the place near the end of Baggot Street. Or were about two weeks ago.

What gives? Has anyone solved this delicious mystery? Given that they seem to have appeared well after the 20th of May of this year, I’m guessing it’s the sort of in-joke that forms on a night out, and that’s a lot more poignant/funnier/deeper before the West Coast Cooler wears off. Only one person takes it totally seriously and goes panting around with an armload of stickers.

Did they get their Russia on or what?

The top one says, “Call me and we walk to Moscow on 20th May” and the bottom one says, “Met you this weekend. Miss you so much.”

Being a major sap, I’d like to think two consenting adults either found each other, or at last discovered that fine and wavy line between stalking and romance.

Here’s a close-up of one. My Android camera is a bit crap.

It’s August, brah.

Since we’re not particularly concerned about the actual truth here at Chaos Thaoghaire, we’d just like a good story to go with it. Can you write us one? There are 10 — count ‘em: TEN– Chaos points for the person with best story to go with these stickers. That’s enough to get you started with the victory dance in round one, only to be knocked off your smug perch by the time you’ve seen what we’ve got in store for you in round two.

THAT’S RIGHT, YOUR SMUG PERCH.

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