bahern7

                                                                 Saturday, seven a.m. After a squally night the rain had finally stopped. The departure had to be an early one. Not to catch a plane or pick up the keys to a new apartment; nothing as exciting as that. No, Grudge Galmount had to clear out into the morning mist simply for the fact that the ‘Notice of Eviction’ was due to expire in two hours’ time. He didn’t want a messy scene and knew that the landlord would be here at nine sharp—with a goon or two in tow. He accepted that he could not blame anyone but himself for his present predicament. It was, after all, a core principle of capitalism that rent had to be paid. Grudge knew in his heart of hearts that the drink trouble that followed him constantly would have to be addressed. Not just yet, though. ...

                                                    Testy nearly tore the door off its hinges such was the haste with which he entered the flat. Jenny extinguished her cigarette and came in off the balcony. —“Slow down, love,” she said. “What the hell’s wrong with you?” Testy’s face was red from exertion. Panicked and spooked, he had run all the way home from the pub and deep fear now showed on his beetroot complexion. —“Pack a bag, Jenny,” he ordered, breathlessly. “We’re getting out of here for a couple of nights. I’m freaked out!” —“What do you mean, what’s wrong? Where’ll we go?” Jenny pleaded. —“Just get your bag and c’mon!” Testy said. “I’ll tell you on the way.” Knowing from experience (several prominent shiners down through the years) not to argue with him when he was wound up like this, Jenny went to the bedroom and packed...

Friends, Dubliners, men from the country, Here's a link to a lucky wasp I saw the other day. As waiters are apt to say when presenting one with a plate: enjoy! With all-consuming humility, Brian The aforesaid link:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gqw7RsY6SeQ

      Once was Bram worked there And Dennis O’Driscoll, too, In Dublin Castle . Veronica’s bust Is in the Dubh Linn Gardens , She’s a heroine. The civil servants, Pawns of the civil service, Permeate the place. International Tourists come, so keen to see Art and history. Well spent time in the Chester Beatty Library Satisfies their need. Or perhaps a trip To the great State Apartments Where the Crown once sat. Spooks are said to stalk Cross Block’s draughty corridors. Don’t walk there alone. The Stamping Building Put up in seventy-four Has its own strange charm. In the lower yard Cars are still allowed to park. Not for much longer. In the summer air Every bench is sat upon. A man must be quick. Or a woman too. The finest girls in Ireland Now and then pass through. Enter by Ship Street See what was once a barracks, Tortured ghosts still haunt. A tourist party Will of...