Trams, suicide and disgusting similies.

We had a rescue helicopter flying around our building at lunchtime. Apparently someone had fallen or jumped from o'connell bridge into the Liffey. I have no idea if they were rescued or not, but I hope they've had their shots recently. The Liffey isn't a good place to end up for the unprepared.

I'm not sure if it's connected of not, but there was an incident somewhere in town that caused all the trams on the northside to be held up for twenty minutes or so. Fortunately I get on at the terminus, so I got a seat before the Japanese-metro-like crush turned the tram into a rolling tube of bad tempered meatpaste.

Other than that, my day has been pretty uneventful.

Oh! Claire wasn't made redundant today, so I guess we're surviving the train wreck that is the Irish economy slowly and painfully prolapsing. I'm not sure if I mean a cunning running-together of "professional" and "collapsing" or about arseholes turning inside out.

Same thing when it comes to Irish banks and the government