On my way to the Mistake Factory this morning, I couldn’t help but marvel at the total cloudlessness of the big big blue sky above me.

A quick look at flightradar24 informed me that the metal bird above me was a Boeing 787 (renamed Dreamliner by some corporate marketeers in Mount Everet trying to re-inject a sense of resemblance of a hint of glamour in air travel)  from Thomson holidays taking a batch of eager holiday- makers to Montego Bay, Jamaica.

Ah… the warm Caribbean sea, the loungers, the pool, the pool bar, the dining room, the rooms, the less frequented back garden, the fence, the razor wire and the unknown beyond it.

Dreamlining on a discovery holiday to Jamaica.

The known part of it.

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Rule #1:

You can’t have your cake and wear it


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The art of eating



Ok, technically not a pint, more like three. But still! What a wonderful new sense of moderation for me.
I have to say that the price of a pint in the city center is eye-watering. But still. Even if the pint of stout had been selling at half price (EUR2.60), I would still have stuck to my guns.
Three pints and a chat with Christophe.
In the only pub in the city center where you stand half a chance of scoring two seats and a reasonably quiet environment.
A sure sign of old age is the ability to keep the number of pints to a trio, and an inability to cope with excessive noise.
And a certainty that painted-on trousers are exclusively for the young ones.

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A pint and a chat



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The Mistake Factory is colourful today.
As in even more colourful.

The Mistake Factory is gay today.
As in even more gay.

The Mistake Factory is filled with laughter today.
As in filled with what?!

Oh yes, I remember now. Today is the kiddies’ Christmas party.
60 midgets on acid running amock around the place.
As opposed to the habitual 60 adults running frantically around the place, looking desperately for someone else to blame for the latest hiccup (or challenge,  or mistake, or disaster, or fuck-up of galactic proportion, depending on the day).

60 midgets on acid, filled with Coca Cola and Haribo jellies and popcorn and chocolate and sweets.

And 5% of them are my responsibility…

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Daddy works in the party place













In conversation with Statler and Waldorf



I sometimes wonder how long it would take for the vegetation to take over Dun Laoghaire.

Mind you, I’d rather not see this scenario in my lifetime.

We do however already have a couple of howling monkeys. They can produce some rather unnerving sounds after sniffing a few canisters of Zippo Premium Butane Fuel

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Never far from the jungle…