Sniffle Lads, will ye stay off the computer please, just for a while till I fix it.
Princess Darla Why, dere’s nuttin rong wid it ?
Sniffle The net nanny thing, not activated, please Darla, exposure, filth, can’t figure it out, please Darla (Princess Darla is thirteen, going on nineteen, became queen of her street-wise domain through cruel & heartless deeds. Merciless.)
Princess Darla Why? (Two syllables, the second lifting the y in why, frightening )
Omar Shariff Cyber Patrol, dad? It’s missing, isn’t it?
Sniffle Yeah, that’s it Omar (Omar is seven, and does this ” Beyond his year’s thing”, all the time.)
Omar Shariff So there’s nothing stopping us going onto inappropriate sites now Dad, or the filth coming in ?
Sniffle Exactly Omar. Is that OK Darla?
Princess Darla Hurry up will u, dere’s shed loads of messages on my Bebo page.
Open letter to Don Mescall.
Ah fuck it Don, ya made me cry again. I’m forty eight brother, kids, responsibilities. Can’t be seen balling my eyes out in public, in Dolans on a Friday night.
(Don Mescall is a Limerick ( Ahane) singer, song-writer, better know for writing songs. He came back on Friday night with his eight sisters, extended family and me.)
Girls saw me crying at his first song about daughter Eve, and Don always being there for her, like a Lighthouse. And I saw his daughter, and I have a daughter, and his music and love for Eve spilled over all of us, but made me cry. So Don, you knocked me down with that song but then you killed with the Justice song.
You see Don’s Da died when he was ten, and he’s written this song about growing up fatherless. His Ma, his sisters and the struggle and in the song he asked us all and me in particular, “Where’s the justice in this world ”
It didn’t really matter what he sang after this couple. I’ll love him forever and the girls toyed with my emotions but inevitably discarded me as if I was some middle-aged bundle of melancholy. I didn’t care, he was brilliant. That’s donmescall.com, and myspace.com/donmescall. Try, you might like.
It’s an age old thing, Shannon-Garryowen, and Buzz has taken his generation’s part in the parish U11 skirmish. In his favour, his mother’s genes contributing his blinding speed and talent, but my own DNA critically ensure clean togs and socks. So two well contested nil all draws on this cold November Sunday morning. That’ll do for this year and he mightn’t knock the ball on in front of their line next year. ( But he had run the length of the pitch and burned six of them in the process ). Heart sings,
And Munster, oh how we love Munster. Today against a mercenary French outfit with a budget bigger then Bush’s military, we were victorious. Six Shannon men started and one took the field with a quarter hour left. Bonus point and a heart-warming bonus to the
on looking Captain Ahab and me.
Thanks Bock for recommending that Robert Plant and Alison Krauss CD.
Thanks Sam PCB for visiting here and lifting my gloom.
And Bishop McQaid for confirming me.
And my mother for having me.