I treated myself to a lunchtime walk on the seafront.
A truly uplifting, re-energising experience it was too.
The Irish weather did not hold back on the micro droplet mist that hydrates, tones and refreshes the skin!
For free!!
Considering the generous lashings extravagantly dispensed by the local weather, I estimate that this walk saved me at least USD50!

How cool is that? (As well as hydrating, and refreshing, and hypo-allergenic)

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Monday pampering



Glitter, all the way.

Sparkly dresses and uncomfortable shoes aplenty, it must be Christmas in Dublin!

Mrs mememe2U and I celebrated our 12th anniversary by going for an Indian in Dun Laoghaire and then Darting it into town (1 stop in Blackrock) for Jerry Fish and the Electric Sideshow.

It seemed appropriate since I proposed to her at a Jerry Fish concert more than 12 years ago.

And no, it was nothing to do with the fact that she was 6 months pregnant and I had caught her dad polishing his 12-gauge shotgun. It was the magic of the moment that prompted me to pop the question.

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Glitter belles, glitter belles…



The magic of Christmas?

Not quite sure what is wrong with us this year. We are pretty much on top of things. A Christmas tree has been procured. It smells like a Christmas tree. It’s full, and even, and lovely and dark green.

It cost the GDP of Lesotho but that’s beyond the point, isn’t it?
One does not put a price tag on the magic of Christmas. Or at least not an easily affordable one…

Anyway, who needs an extravagant Christmas dinner?
We’ll be fine, eating our yellow sticker ready meals (there’s usually shitloads of them in the Granny Aisle on the 23rd and 24th, people seem to feed exclusively on alcohol and cocktail sausages in the last three weeks up to Christmas) while watching our beautiful tree starting to droop ever so slightly.

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Can you feel it yet?



Did shag all. Which was brilliant.
Slept loads. Which is exactly what the doctor ordered.

A most beautiful non-day.

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A minimal sort of day



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



Luca was busy ketching up with his homework tonight.

The fun times, they truly are over.

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You just wait and see them 25 euros multiply when placed on the right horse.
You just wait!

Oops shite.

Next time.

Definitely next time.

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Living the dream