So there I was, roysh, twenty-three years of age, still, like, gorgeous and rich, living off my legend as a schools rugby player, scoring the birds, being the man, when all of a sudden, roysh, life becomes a total mare. I don't have a Betty Blue what's wrong, but I can't eat, can't sleep, I don't even want to do the old beast with two backs, which means a major problem, and we're talking big time here. Normally my head is so full of, like thoughts, but now I'm down to just one: Sorcha, I'm playing it Kool and the Gang, but this is basically scary. I mean, I'm Ross O'Carroll-Kelly, for fock's sake, I don't do love.

This is the latest instalment of the misadventures of Ross O'Carroll-Kelly - a hysterical satire of beer, bonking and rugby!

So there I was, roysh, putting the 'in' in 'in crowd', hanging out, pick of the babes, bills from the old pair to fund the lifestyle I, like, totally deserve. But being a schools rugby legend has its downsides, roysh, like all the total knobs wanting to chill in your, like, reflected glory, and the bunny-boilers who decide they want to be with me and won't take, like, no for an answer. And we're talking totally here. Basically, it may look like a champagne bath with, like, Nell McAndrew, with, like, no clothes and everything, but I can tell you, roysh, those focking bubbles can burst. And when they do ... OH MY GOD! Ross O'Carroll-Kelly is all meat and no preservatives, roysh, at least, that's what it says in the can in, like, one particular south Dublin girls' school, which shall remain nameless, roysh, basically to protect the names of the guilty. You know who you are.

Dara's mum is going to have a new baby. So, Dara will soon be a big brother! Being a big brother isn't going to be easy so Dara decides to practise. But what does a big brother do for a little baby?And how can Dara learn?

This book offers a detailed engagement between the French philosopher Jacques Derrida and the contemporary Irish author Paul Howard, aka Ross O’Carroll-Kelly. The book offers insightful analyses of Derrida’s deconstructive theory with all its concepts, non-concepts and neologisms, thus showing how they can be used in order to provide a critique of the socio-linguistic realm of Howard’s fictional series. Through his work, Howard set in ink a depiction of Ireland, and specifically Dublin, throughout the Celtic Tiger era and its aftermath. The book promotes a dialogue between Derrida and Howard in order to cultivate a succinct and accessible overview of critical theory.

One man's story of life in The Joy -- compulsive, chilling and frank. A no-holds-barred account of a criminal's time in the notorious Dublin prison, as revealed to journalist Paul Howard. This extraordinary life story tells it all. The desperate lifestyle of a junkie; bullying and savage beatings among the prisoners; ingenious drug-smuggling ploys; the despairing cry for help of a failed suicide attempt. But alongside the pain there is humour -- from the hilarity of World Cup celebrations to the distraction of a beautiful aerobics teacher, from bingeing on altar wine to the shortest-ever "hunger strike". The first ever glimpse of Mountjoy Prison -- from the inside. Illustrated with black & white photographs.

Reading Paul Howard: The Art of Ross O’Carroll Kelly offers a thorough examination of narrative devices, satirical modes, cultural context and humour, in Howard’s texts. The volume argues that his academic critical neglect is due to a classic bifurcation in Irish Studies between high and popular culture, and will use the thought of Pierre Bourdieu, Sigmund Freud, Mikhail Bakhtin and Jacques Derrida to critique this division, building a theoretical platform from which to examine the significance of Howard’s work as an Irish comic and satirical writer. Addressing both the style and the substance of his work, this text locates him in a tradition of Irish satirical writing that dates back to the Gaelic bards, and includes writers like Swift, Wilde, Flann O’Brien and Joyce. Through textual and contextual analysis, this book makes the case for Howard as a significant and original voice in Irish writing, whose fusion of the three traditional types of satire (Horatian, Juvenalian and Menippean), has created a parallel Ireland that shines a satirical light on its real counterpart. As Freud suggests, humour is a way of accessing aspects of the psyche that normative discourses cannot enunciate, and Howard, through the confessional voice of Ross, offers a fictive truth on twenty years of Irish society, a truth that is not accessed by discourse in the public sphere or by what could be termed literary or high cultural fiction.