Stories from a Dublin Scientist

Month: September, 2013

Ass of the Year

Well folks; the competition for this year’s title has been intense.

There was the politician, the celebrity chef, the spoiled momma’s boy, the over paid sports-star and many, many more.

But two thousand and thirteen’s ‘Ass of the year’ is……

The washed up movie star who’s whoring herself on reality television!

Let’s give her a round of applause!


Written for trifecta week ninety-seven

Picture it and write: Stacking

Hi there! This is my offering for this week’s picture it and write for Ermilia’s blog here. Once again; the picture is not mine, I only use it for inspiration. Anyway; Enjoy!


I barely had time to lift my teacup off the saucer when Kirsty grabbed it from my lap and added to the others that she had grabbed from the rest of us. We all looked at the little six year old as she placed them in order of size on the table and then at her parents. Their eyes were a mixture of concern and resignation. This did not seem in anyway unusual to them.

We were all too much in shock to do anything before Kirsty then started taking the teacups off us, pouring the contents on the floor and stacking them on top of the saucers. At this one of the other guests, a tall man called Jason from accounts stood up and marched over to the pile muttering, “What kind of place is this?” and went to grab back his cup.

The second he touched it, Kirsty started to scream. It wasn’t like anything any of us had heard before, it was a shrill, piercing sound that drilled right into the back of your skull. Jason put back the cup and backed away. Kirsty immediately stopped screaming and started to adjust the stack of crockery. She began talking in a low voice, so low you could barely hear it, “All in order and everything in it’s place. All in order and everything in it’s place.”

“We’re so very, very sorry!” Kirsty’s mother said, tears in her eyes “She gets like this sometimes. Stacking or arranging or whatever else gets her fancy. You can’t stop her, she’ll scream like that or worse. We have talked to many doctors, no one can even tell us what it is, let alone how to stop it. It can be so hard sometimes.”

On unspoken consent I think we all agreed that then was the time to leave. Not much was said except of Kirsty’s constant mantra. The last I saw she had beheaded one of the roses that Sam from HR had brought with her and placed the flower in the topmost cup.

“All in order” she said, a faint smile on her lips, her eyes in rapture, “and everything in it’s place.”


Green Chicks

“Only one thing will save him Jim.”

“What’s that Bones?”

“A flower from Orion twelve.”

“Where the green chicks are?”

“Yes! But what’s important is….”


“Yes Captain!”

“Maximum warp for Orion Twelve”


Written for Trifecta’s Trifextra week eighty-seven.

Questioning with Prejudice

During the war, I was what we liked to call a “Live information gatherer” or in other words, an interrogator. It was basically our job to get information out of any of the poor sons of bitches from the other side that got caught About everything from troop movements to how much supplies they had.

Now before you start making assumptions about how we treated those prisoners, I can assure you that I never harmed a hair on their heads. Physical violence is far too inelegant for my tastes anyway. I could get all the information that I needed from psychological methods like bribery, trick questions and the good old power of suggestion. I prided myself in breaking nearly every soldier I came across. Those I couldn’t get to; well, we had something special for them.

Alonso was one of those guys you tend to find in my line of work. He was what the official documents called “Enthusiastic” We just called him an animal. He had none of the qualms the rest of us had about hurting captives. Anyone who managed to resist us, especially those who were flaunting it, were sent on to Alonso for his Questioning with prejudice.

Alonso’s office was closest to the cells so that they could hear the man work, the screams could melt the resolve of the hardest man. If the prisoner was lucky he might stay alive long enough to even answer some questions, though they might have had to whisper through a shattered jaw.

The real benefit came when the prisoner was wheeled back out, occasionally in several pieces, and brought slowly past his colleagues. I can tell you after that they were a lot more willing to hand over information as painlessly as possible.

That way; almost everybody won.
Written for Trifecta Week Ninety-Six

Picture it and Write: Hunted

Hi there! This is my offering for this week’s picture it and write from Ermilia’s blog here. Once again; the picture is not mine, I only use it for inspiration. Anyway; Enjoy!


“Come on! We can make it!”

Shane pulled the visibly exhausted Sharon back on her feet imploring her to keep running. She somehow kept moving, the two the them weaving amongst the trees, their soles gingerly finding footing in the deep moss. Even though it was still cool in the morning air their naked bodies were covered in sweat from unaccustomed exertion. Shane knew that if they could only make it to the base of the cliff, less than a mile away, then everything would be alright. It wouldn’t be easy, their pursuers where everywhere. And if they were caught… the less said the better.

“I can’t make it Shane!” Sharon called from behind. “I just can’t! Go on ahead without me!”

Shane turned back “Like Hell I will! We got into this together, we’ll get out of it together!”

On those last words something whizzed past Shane’s head. He didn’t need a second thought to know what it was. “Move!” He screamed, “Get out now!”

He started to run but there was a scream from behind him he twisted back to see Sharon fall, a red mist exploding from her back. Almost at once, he felt something hit him, the pain was incredible. He dropped to his knees, his vision gone blurry. Through the haze he saw a figure come out of the undergrowth. Concentrating he made it out to a man in combat clothes. A mask over his face. He removed his mask revealing a merciless grin.

“Sorry about that!” The man chuckled.

“You bastard!” Shane whimpered, his hands clutching his genitals where the paintball had hit. “You fucking bastard!”

“Listen sunshine!” The man bent down in front of the prostrate Shane “This was your idea! You and GI Jane over there” He nodded at Sharon, whose own swearing was muffled by the moss her face was lying in.

The man said more but Shane didn’t listen. The pain from his crotch was too much. The only thought that broke through was the oath, the solemn oath, that he would never, ever, make bets while drunk again.  


The Year Dot

“Can you see anything?”

“Not a damn thing! How far did we go back?”

“Thirteen point seven billion years.”

“Hmmmm. Interesting. Push the red button.”

With a bang the universe came into being.


Written for Trifecta’s trifextra week eighty-six

Horoscopes 11

Capricorn (22 December-20 January): The stars warn that leaving the house tomorrow will bring you certain doom. Staying inside is certain doom too but at least you’ll be comfortable.

Aquarius (21 January-19 February): You will be forcefully ordained as a minister next week after you enter a bar right behind a priest and a rabbi.

Pisces (20 February – 20 March): Have you ever heard of the straw that broke the camel’s back? Well this weekend you will be the schmuck who broke the traffic cop’s sanity.

Aries (21 March – 20 April): In uncertain times you can always depend on family so it will come as no shock when your brother is the first person to sell you out to the mob.

Taurus (21 April – 21 May): Your lucky number is six which is in fact also the number of intact bones you will have left at the end of the week.

Gemini (22 May – 21 June): Your penchant for piercings will take a tragic turn when you walk by a powerful magnet next Tuesday.

Cancer (22 June – 23 July): We all have unique feature we are proud of but the stars ask that you stop showing people your distended anus. That’s disgusting.

Leo (24 July – 23 August): Did you know that an average human can recover with less than one-quarter of their liver remaining. Keep that in mind for tomorrow.

Virgo (24 August – 23 September): The stars say love is on the way for you. It is six-foot five, covered in tattoos and will not take “No” for an answer.

Libra (24 September – 23 October): It is normal for a first-time parent to be alarmed at any unusual behaviour in their infant. However; even the stars are concerned how yours got their hands on that submachine gun.

Scorpio (24 October – 22 November): They say the N.S.A. watches everything that you do so could you please do something more interesting than reorganise your CD collection every evening.

Sagittarius (23 November – 21 December): A shooting star will fall from the heavens next week granting the wish of a great many people when it hits you square in the nuts.


A man I used to work with, Phil was his name, was for want of a better word, mad.
Phil didn’t chase after the rainbow. He actively tried to emigrate there, he used it as a forwarding address and everything.

He had the sunniest disposition of any man I had ever known. Bad things just didn’t happen to him, he was always able to turn it around into something good. For him a broken leg was “A great opportunity to get in some reading” or getting mugged ” An excuse to buy that new wallet I wanted!”

Phil was irrepressible and on days when I felt a little down, you could count on him waltzing around happy as a pig in muck, smiling at everybody.

There were times I would wonder if Phil really was the mad one.


Written for Trifecta Week ninety-five

Doctor Joe: Agony Uncle 20

Doctor Joe: Agony Uncle, constantly looking for a cure*.

Dear Doctor Joe,

A few years back I had dated one of my guy friends. Eventually we broke up because he fell for another girl or rather he claimed that he was never in love with me as he was already in a relationship with that girl. But to be true all my friends, even his friends knew that he referred to me as his girlfriend. But now the problem is not with him, but with another guy whom I’ve recently met. We have talked a lot (even sometimes messaged for the whole day). I like him. But he seems a lot like my ex. Maybe he’s trustworthy or maybe even he thinks me nothing more than a friend. I guess he has a crush on a girl too. Or I might be wrong as well. Maybe I’m just disbelieving him too much. Recently, I have even argued with him on these trusting issues. He said it’s my life, who’s he to interfere. I can do anything with it. But what I can’t tell him is that I like him. He still calls me, sends me messages, waits to talk to me. But if he doesn’t really like me back, then it would again be a case of unrequited love. What do I do? I can’t confess my love. But is there a way to know his feelings? I have no idea of it as I don’t know his friends much. Is he actually worth trusting? But this time if I’m betrayed, I will be totally broken. I can’t risk it. But there’s also an old saying that once someone starts falling in love, he/she can’t stop it. I’m confused. Please help me.

Dear Anonymous,

You write a lot in this question , but I sense that it boils down to just this one, “Will this new guy be just like my old boyfriend?” Well; the short answer is, yes, he will be. The fact of the matter anonymous, is that all men, every single one of us thinks and acts pretty much the same way. We are all, immoral, sex-crazed, sleaze bags with wandering eyes and itchy zipper fingers. It’s just that some men are better at hiding that than others.

That is not to say that all men are destined to fly off with the fist harlot they see but the reality is they are more likely to do so unless you follow these easy steps.

1) Slut up: I know I repeat this a lot but you can’t really beat dressing slutty for keeping a man on a short lease. If you can actually act slutty for him too, well then he will be yours for life.

2) Un-train him: This is easiest when you get the guy straight from Mommy but with work it can be successful with any man. You do everything for him, and I mean everything, from ironing his socks to filling out his tax returns. Remember; a man is only as mobile as his options. If he can’t boil an egg without your help. His options won’t go very far indeed.

3) Go Crazy: This is the option with which I have had the most experience. The first thing is don’t start crazy, build up to it. Make sure you leave him a good month to get settled before you start texting him at three AM with pictures of the new knife you bought “Just for him” and remember don’t go the sissy route and say that you’ll kill yourself if he leaves. You have to make it clear You will kill HIM if he leaves. I speak from experience when I say, if leaving you means that I will wake up with a horse’s head in my bed then I will seriously reconsider doing it.

I hope that helps Anonymous
The very best of luck,

Doctor Joe

* Editor’s note: It’s just under the skirts of attractive women for some reason.

To read more Doctor Joe or to ask a question click the link here.


Sometimes; late at night, I look at another failed reaction and shout,
“Come on results! I know you are out there somewhere!”
When they see that, my colleagues often wonder about my sanity.
Written for Trifecta’s Trifextra week eighty-five