Divine apparition in Glasthule

Divine apparition in Glasthule

And there was light.
Or rather lights. Two of them.

What one can find in Buckley’s on auction day is nothing short of miraculous.

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Let there be light

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Chocolate ain’t good for you…

moused killed in a trap

Exit stage left, pet rodent…

As usual, I had mixed feelings this morning when I found out that our stowaway pet had seen an abrupt end to its cruise on the LÉ Mememe2U.

On the one hand, I cannot help but feel sorry for the little bugger. And there was much protesting from Mimi, who tried really really hard to make a case for the cute little rodent (“but Papa, it’s only trying to make a living, it’s only living off crumbs and little bits of food, it’s not bothering us at all”). And I totally see her point. It is a cute little creature, healthy, with a shiny coat, and shiny jet black eyes, and lovely little whiskers.

On the other hand, there is one word that does not have echoes of cuteness for me: infestation. And there is such a thing as an overdose of cuteness. When the cuteness reproduces at an alarming rate.

So farewell, cute little rodent. I know that the end was quick. Those mouse traps are terribly effective at achieving what they were designed to do. What a timeless, classic design too.

You had the choice between the cheese and the chocolate. Your sweet tooth was your Achilles’ heel.

You also helped me to reinforce a point to Mimi, the great defender of small cute rodents (she bought you at least three extra weeks of careless crumbs hoovering chez mememe2U): chocolate ain’t good for you.

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Brave Dave, having a good look inside

Brave Dave, taking a good look inside

David grabbed his tool belt, fastened it and climbed to the top of the ladder.
He opened the hatch cautiously and took a peek inside.

Without a word, he closed the hatch again, shaking his head.

He climbed down the ladder, very carefully.

He unfastened his belt and put it in the boot of his van.

And drove off.

Still shaking his head.

Far from me the intention to needlessly alarm you, but it looks like cloud computing is well and truly bollixed…

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St Dave, Patron Saint of Cloud Computing

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Not a great Monday morning.

For me, when I sneaked a quick peek at my inbox (what was I thinking?!)
For Gully the gull, with the eyes wider than the beak, upon realising that the plaice that he had nicked from the trawler would be of little use to him.
For the misplaced plaice. So close from the sea (50 meters at the most).

Yet so far.

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Feeling somewhat out of plaice

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The very rare smile

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and heavy conversation.

With a lashing of Bolognese and way too much cheese.

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Dangling balls

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Forget about all those so-called experts and other governmental advisers on astronomical fees.
The Big Nose Club, in its emergency meeting last night in Mulligan’s, managed not only to identify the world’s most crippling issues (pint 1 to 3), but we also managed to find swift, easily implementable and measurable solutions to these problems (pint 4 to 6).

Emails were duly sent this morning to the UN Security Council, the European Court of Justice, Brian May, Theresa May, the Nobel Committee, NATO, Enda Kenny, Amnesty International, the UNHCR, the IMF, the Pentagon, the Holy See, the Blind Drunk, the WWF, the WTF, the Grand Mufti of Saudi Arabia, the AA and Teddy’s ice cream parlour in Dun Laoghaire.

We are now waiting for the replies to pour in. And kudos. And expressions of eternal gratitude. And awards.

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Stoutperforming the competition

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