There was a bit of culture.
Some very convincingly feigned interest
Even a short encounter with a local poet and photographer (but he kind of hinted at being sort of busy)
But there is only so much delaying of gratification that can be achieved (“a tantric” pub crawl as Gary called it).
Pints had to be consumed.
Bit of tactical food too. And red wine. For variety.
“Gary, I think there is a guy trying to sniff your head, through the fish tank”
Bit more wine. In preparation for an afternoon of serious pintage.
Quick photo for the cover of the upcoming album.
And finally, the serious pintage.
Insto feeling a touch protective there.
These six are mine, the rest of yize can fokoff.
Trademark middle finger
Good spirited conversation, monitoring the three spirit levels
Paddy in the doorway.
Another six for Insto (hence the rare smile).
More fresh pints on vintage formica.
All swell in the man-cave.
Brian has landed!
“You touchin’ ma camera, punk?”
Bromance in the man-cave.
Match made in heaven.
Getting on like a house on fire.
Tactical fish and chips (thanks O’Loughlin’s staff for bending the rules there…)
Three wise men.
More and more camera blur as the evening progresses.
All still going remarkably well in the man-cave of happy pish-talking.
Contemplative suction by a master of the art.
Tactical walk in the fresh air.
Insto off to catch the last Dart to Killester. More camera blur.
After all that fresh air, more pintage is on the cards.
Pensioner still yapping away. Jason half-listening, in a state of fascinated horror.
Gary without the middle finger.
Ha! That’s more like him.
Jim. Regal even in urination.
Sunglasses? In Ireland? Come on…
The end of the bromance. Giving me the eye for the last time.
The cover of that difficult second album.
Thanks lads for a great Saturday (and a bit of a fart-filled Sunday in a cramped Dacia, with a mix of cool tunes blending seamlessly into one another).