Dyson with death
Posted on Friday, June 2, 2006I had lunch with two guys today.
One said: I never really understood what people meant by the expression Nature abhors a vacuum.
And the other said: Why does Nature hate hoovers?
Stumble it!
Stumble it!
June 6th, 2006
As a side bar: Lahinch during the long sunny glorious June weekend. Christy Moore came to mind, their was amhráns, bodhráns, amadáns aplenty at Lahinch. I was trying a little beach actuivity with the Princess, (not that!, swimming and sunbathing). It was an interesting view on our society as it is today. Celtic tiger types staking out their “private” part of the beach to keep them seperate from the common crowd. Pykies offering fortune telling with a bit of pick pocketing on the side. Local scobes selling periwinkles and big fat mommas of all shapes and sizes. God we are a dog ugly race at present. Scobes out from Limerick drinking flagons of cider and smoking a bit of hash. They sent their kids off on a mission to nab some buckets and shovels as obviously these low lifes wouldn’t buy any such article for their own children, when they can be picked up for free on the beach. There was plenty of “silverback” activity with proud muscular types giving the evil eye to anyone who glanced at their pretty girlfriend. Fake tatoos on offer from non nationals or foreigners to you and me Bock. When the tide started coming in a similar tide of humanity started retreating, leading to a Ganges type effect with groups huddled together cheek by jowl. “This is Heaven, this is Hell, who knows, who can tell, anyone for the last few choc ices?” Luckily accommodation was provided by Seán of the Embers high up on the hill over Liscannor where in the evening alfresco salads were enjoyed with a nice bottle of Orvietto. QJS