Mark Hayes, Author at Enough Talking, More Writing - Page 2 of 49

Hollywood Haze

Hollywood Hayes

New weekly column of mine in the Irish Examiner. Read on! COLUMN  So there I was, Sunday night, somewhere in the Hollywood Hills, about three in the morn, drunk as a skunk, debating whether or not to jump out of this moving car. My buddy in the passenger seat, let’s call him Johnny, was debating
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Comedy Store

The Insider’s Chancer Guide to Hollywood

  (Article of mine that was in the Examiner recently ->Read on!) For the sake of your holiday needs, I’m just going to assume you’re single/a young couple/just married and bored already thinking oh no I thought this would make my life more interesting but no/married with kids and wondering where it all went wrong
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Beyonce Phone Charger

Plug Boy

Never Going Back Again – Fleetwood Mac Thanks to all my Apple products (and their horrendous battery life) I always feel so connected (to the wall). As a result, like my hopes and dreams, my phone almost always dies the minute I leave my house. iPhone. Battery. Bad. Anyway, last night I managed to lock myself
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Yoga

Yoga God. Namas-Wahey!

 (Article of mine that was in the Examiner at the weekend. Read on!) So I’m in Malibu, at a yoga studio, standing at the back of a crisp, clean, pure white room. White ceiling, white walls, white drapes and polished wooden floorboards. It feels like a dream sequence. I’m surrounded by the beautiful, tanned, toned,
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Nick Hayes

Grandaddio!

For Emma – Vitamin String Quartet    So I’m driving along. Listening to Taylor Swift. On my way to yoga. And I’m crying. Weird day. In a daze when I got in my car. Turn on the radio. Anything. Just don’t want the silence. Drive on. My Dad phoned me a few minutes before. Told me my
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Christmas Dog

Christmas Clown

Blue Christmas – Elvis I’m like a dog. Pavlov’s one. Conditioned to beg or eat or do something every time he heard a bell. Except my bell is Christmas. And I’m conditioned to have a laugh. I blame Ireland. Don’t think I’ve ever had a bad Christmas back in Ireland. From growing up as a
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Eye Twitch

Date Ape

Not a fan of dates. Many reasons. Here are a few: So. It’s Christmas Eve babe and I’m not in the drunk tank. Yet. I am on a date though. Christmas. Eve. Babe. What else would you be doing. Eve, the girl I’m on a date with, is looking unreal. Savage dress. Best I’ve seen. Special
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Mark Hayes Irish Independent

LA State of Mind (And Body)

http://www.independent.ie/entertainment/movies/mind-and-body-you-can-always-look-better-in-la-30524320.html So, one minute you’re at Starbucks in Beverly Hills waiting in line for your skinny café mocha frappe latte gibber, listening to two beautiful girls in tight yoga apple bottom pants talk to each other with their big voluptuous lips about how one uses cider vinegar in her beautiful blond hair and the other
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I Want To Be The Best

http://www.independent.ie/opinion/your-voice/first-person-mark-hayes-i-want-to-be-the-best-30457187.html When I was a young wee lad making my way in the real capital of Ireland, Cork, boy, I had little to no clue what I wanted to be when I grew up. Besides the best, obviously. The question was, the best at what? For a while I thought I was going to lead
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Mark Hayes Examiner

Summer Time Hayes

http://www.irishexaminer.com/lifestyle/features/mark-hayes-feeling-the-pressure-to-get-a-beach-ready-body-278040.html So I’m at a hotel pool party in West Hollywood. To my right: Hollywood hills. To my left: Downtown L.A. All around me: Models. Beauties. Brutes. Half naked bodies, half drunk girls, fully flexing guys. All perfectly sculpted. Breasts, pecs and high heels. Wonderful. Along with me, a pasty white, almost burnt Irish guy
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