Here is a photo from my visit at Christmas time, its Steve Kelly and Owen Kelly (no relation) in the Bodhran (my favourite pub). Also, I am wearing Conor MacCarthy’s jumper in this, which I stole after our gig in the shelbourne. I try my best to steal at least one garment a year from him; it keeps him on his toes and in fashion.
Conor (in Finland) emailed me a reply and I HAD to post it:
The Finnish winter was long and hard and more that a little chilly. In February temperatures plummeted to a nipple freezing -35C. Struggling to survive without his trusty brown jumper, he was forced to strech the bejesus out of his left sock, cut a hole in the toes (for his head)and stretch the all-too-thin material over his frost-bitten torso. However, this moved proved to be disastrous. While journeying over a frozen lake on the way home one evening, a wandering bear picked up the scent of the naked left ankle. The ensuing attack was vicious to the extreme. Heavily limping home with half a leg, he realised the trail of blood and and bone fragments and goo would soon attract the wolves. He removed his body sock and streched it over his stump in an attempt to slow the bleeding, but to no avail. The wolves were in a playful mood. They began with the fingers and worked thier way gleefully towards the eyelids, nibbling all the way. Luckily a passing ice-cream van scared them off, and salvation seemed once again a possiblity. However, just meters from the saftey of his apartment, he caught a nasty cold and died. "If only I had my trusty brown jumper" he thought. And as the vultures circled his mucus filled head, he realised where he left it..in the shelbourne. And then he realised. Charlie's some langer.
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The Finnish winter was long and hard and more that a little chilly. In February temperatures plummeted to a nipple freezing -35C. Struggling to survive without his trusty brown jumper, he was forced to strech the bejesus out of his left sock, cut a hole in the toes (for his head)and stretch the all-too-thin material over his frost-bitten torso. However, this moved proved to be disastrous. While journeying over a frozen lake on the way home one evening, a wandering bear picked up the scent of the naked left ankle. The ensuing attack was vicious to the extreme. Heavily limping home with half a leg, he realised the trail of blood and and bone fragments and goo would soon attract the wolves. He removed his body sock and streched it over his stump in an attempt to slow the bleeding, but to no avail. The wolves were in a playful mood. They began with the fingers and worked thier way gleefully towards the eyelids, nibbling all the way. Luckily a passing ice-cream van scared them off, and salvation seemed once again a possiblity. However, just meters from the saftey of his apartment, he caught a nasty cold and died. "If only I had my trusty brown jumper" he thought. And as the vultures circled his mucus filled head, he realised where he left it..in the shelbourne. And then he realised. Charlie's some langer.
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