A no email day. Not a one.
Cutprice viagra. Begging letters from THAT Rwandan princess (stalking bitch). The Force India Formula One team. Facebook comments. Alerts on this here wonderblog. Conspicuous by absence.
The blogging community is in Galway trying not to sleep with each other, then sleeping with each other, while I whittle away the dying light of this sleepy Saturday with football and a nice cup of Camomile tea.
The dogs aren't barking and even next door have hit the mute button, their weekend revelry replaced by fridge buzz and crickets.
I'll be sleeping sober when the hour stealing bastards come, before belching me up at Stupid O'Clock for another Sunday pushing buttons and hitting 'send.'
7 comments:
No one in Galway manages to sleep of a night, especially after a wee swally of that awfie home-made poteen fae Biddy Reilly's next to the Post Office.
Jimmy, I haven't seen or heard tell of you since old Sweary did one. Welcome.
As for Biddy Reilly's, I think I fell afoul of a couple of all day breakfasts there, back in the day.
Solitude is a good thing...for about 24 hours. :)
Just wanted to post that I have been reading your blog since your friend outed you and your blog writing ways in that Dingle pub. I think it's just wonderful and I keep coming back for more. Well done!
The Canadian Girl
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
...ahem....
Slock - That was one drunken evening, let me proffer my apologies for slinking off the next night but I was a very, very broken man. I'm very pleased you like the blog, thanks.
Conan - Your comment lacks structure and context. Please revise.
And a heartily jesuitical amdg to you too!
Post a Comment