We’re going (as I told you) to the game in Dublin. Ireland versus Scotland in Croke Park.
Myself and the Bullet. Off to see the rugby, and to stay the night with Wrinkly Paddy. And to meet Wrinkly Joe.
And to get shitfaced in Dublin pubs.
Well, me to get shitfaced, and Bullet to stand around looking embarrassed and making sure I don’t lose anything too valuable or make untoward suggestions to foreign women. The little bastard.
I’ll do my best to check in with you but I can’t promise anything. Please be understanding.