Things have been a bit quiet here for the last few days because I was away in Letterfrack on a special mission.
All right then. I was in Letterfrack on the batter and I’m worn out from associating with the drunkards and ne’er-do-wells of that fine village. If I never see the inside of Peter Veldon’s pub again, it will be … a mistake.
One poor devil was so upset telling me about his terrible experiences in Letterfrack that he broke down. Or to be more precise, he fell asleep.
It’s hard to blame him, in all truthfulness after the horrors he’s witnessed.
Horrors like people joking about the funfair set up outside the old industrial school.
– Maybe they could have a big inflatable fukken Christian Brother jumpin out of a bag at ya.
– Yeah, with a big inflatable mickey in his hand.
Jesus Christ, is there no decency left in this country?
I pause and think for a minute.
Let me rephrase that: was there ever any decency in this country?
But enough of that. I’m worn out from climbing hills and swallowing Guinness.
I’ll have to get back to the regular posting tomorrow, but this evening I think I’ll just have a rest from it. Christ, I was hardly half an hour back on the road before they started talking about the banks, and telling me that Anglo-Irish is in even worse shape than anyone knew. Fucking great. Just another €4-billion hit for the taxpayer.