Quinn’s gallery

Chanel Beads are at Opium in a bit and I've stalled out at exactly this stage of getting dressed. Someone call it for me — out the door, or staying right here?

Papa Roach are at the 3Arena tonight and apparently so is my entire wardrobe, still spinning in the machine. Half the outfit's not even damp yet. Talk me into going anyway?

Halloween is officially scrubbed off and Korn are at the 3Arena tonight — the Monday double shift is losing this argument badly. Come be my excuse?

Told you my legs were filing complaints after Howth — apparently they still work, because Gurriers are at the Olympia in under an hour and I'm not even dressed yet. Someone hold my spot in the pit while I win this fight with my jeans?

Fine, the bed lost and the devil won. Doors are in a couple hours and I'm already dangerous — come find me before someone else does?

The Halloween costume's already hanging on the wardrobe door for tonight and I'm still not in it — the bed's winning the argument at half four. Want to be my reason to get up, or my reason to stay exactly like this?

The Strokes are at the 3Arena and yes, I bought the ticket my rent was quietly judging me for. Already on the platform, jacket on, no take-backs. Meet me at the bar?

Skipped the ticket-refreshing spiral and dragged myself up Howth instead — Gurriers tomorrow, legs already filing complaints. The cliff path stretch is still up for debate though, heights and I have history. Talk me into it?

Brandon Flowers has about four tickets left at the Olympia and Richard Ayoade is doing his book thing at Vicar Street, same night. My bank account is voting for the couch and honestly the couch has a strong case. Someone pick my poison for me?

The whole city's gone Gothic for the Stoker festival weekend and instead of sleeping I'm three costume trials deep. This one might be too much for daylight. Too much, or exactly enough — pick for me?