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Terminus

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Last 7.40AM dart from Salthill to Kilbarrack.

Over the past five years, Luca and I have:

– travelled thousands of miles in varying degrees of overcrowdedness
– received new strains of the lurgy from half of our co-commuters
– and passed it on to the other half
– inhaled dozens of farts
– produced a few (mostly Luca – and me the morning after a Big Nose Club meeting)
– paid scary amounts of money for the privilege of travelling on the most-expensive-per-mile commuter train in Europe (I was particularly delighted that time when the price of my weekly ticket increased by 29% in one go)
– had three altercations. Well me. There was the “we’ll-have-a-vote-and-see-if-the-others-want-the-window-open-oh-see-no-they-don’t-either” stand-off. There was the “I-value-the-comfort-of-my-arse-more-than-the-well-being-of-your-designer-handbag” episode. And there was the “have-a-kleenex-no-i-insist-cause-if-you-loudly-snort-your-nasal-phlegm-one-more-time-i’ll-headbutt-you” row.
–  also had dozens of laughs and met some of the friendliest commuters in the world (by commuting standards)

And I will miss all of this.

At least I got a 75 page photobook out of it, to remember the good old days.

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Michael writes the book

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Michael didn’t attend no fancy business school.
But the 250-pound 6’4 giant knows instinctively what appeals to the mattress-buying community:
– an easily recognisable trading name
– a simple yet effective logo
– a powerful slogan

He is immensely happy with all three.

Especially his “furniture world” slogan. That’s what took him the longest to carefully craft.

Big Mickey nailed it. Big Mickey is the boss.

Mattress Mick must truly be quaking in his cowboy boots now.

A new mattress giant is in town!

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Man – vs- oysters

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Huitres en entree

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Cherries, winkles and Father Ted

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Under the bridge

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Oh, look!

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An exciting, easy activity that costs sweet fuck all: throwing stones from the bridge.

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Mimi and her Mum

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Fast track entertainment

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Summertime, and the livin is easy

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Beach babes

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The Preacher

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Contrasty

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Dé-crépi

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What’s the crack, Finn?

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Penalty shootout

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High drama

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and laughter…

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Mrs Mememe2U

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Alain 2016

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Jurassic Chiroubles

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Bailing out

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Dead mouse

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Not quite the amazing Amazon

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But still great craic!

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Monogal

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Up shit creek with two paddles

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Eirexit – Ireland is out of the World Cup.

The what? The Euro? Not the World Cup? Bah, no big deal, everybody is out of the Euro these days…

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Beach babes

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SPF0.75

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Summer ball

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Drought

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IPA

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Pensive

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Now, that’s gas…

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One three hill

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High nelly

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Le Tabur de la Meduse

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Family photo on blue stairs – Take 1

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Family photo on blue stairs – Take 2

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Family photo on blue stairs – Take 3

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Donegal the colourful

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Last Kilbarrack railway bridge shot?
Perhaps…

Have to bag them while I still can.

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Preemptive nostalgia

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Tom had been a father.
Four times, between 1965 and 1972.

Technically he still was.
But none of them had called him. Or texted him.

No sign of life.

He wasn’t bitter, oh no. That was the way things were meant to be. They were all busy with their own children. Everything else had ceased to exist since they all had had children.

He wasn’t bitter. He was just feeling a bit sad.

He got himself an ice cream cone in Teddy’s.
And watched the bay for a little while.

He just caught a glimpse of the warm tear as it mingled with the cold ice cream and the bright red strawberry syrup.

He licked all three absentmindedly.

Maybe they would call later.
It was only half past four.

Elsewhere in the mememe2U compound, the little mememe2Us decided that Chinese dumplings would be a perfect Father’s day treat.
The fact that I am the only one who can prepare and cook them, and the fact that it takes an hour and a half didn’t seem to trouble them too much.
They were delicious, since you’re asking. 

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Father’s day

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Are in.

Totally, like.

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Stripes

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