St. Peter preached the Epistles to the Apostles looking like that.
![Image](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipk7LBT60WLAfhPhC_-P9x6xgmWUdol6g0f4SLv6iX2t3pyHDknziAsbFcA06ZpG9H23YXQLJBMQ5NiOeCWPW6-iLq1zYDlY2olalHw6rJWaYRA70b2kmFDtzEn9tWgrCfwzusvSmigy0/s320/1481109_10202763228622286_1995295573_o.jpg)
Success as Shell scores Cider On Good Friday, the town closed up tighter than a gnats chuff. You couldn't get a sweet, or a cigarette, or a packet of Butterscotch Angel Delight for love nor money. And if you did, you couldn't be caught with them. "What are you rustling there" said my Mother as I ran up the stairs with contraband in gold foil. The town was a wasteland with every shop battened down,only tumbleweed rolling through main street, the sound of bells pealing ominously from the 3 churches, Twins and a Friary as the day wore interminably on. One could be forgiven for thinking Gary Cooper would walk out from behind a store front with a pistol on his hip at High Noon. Because we were told we couldn't have it, even people who wore gold Pioneer Pins had the thirst of death on them.. In a countrywide epidemic of reverse psychology, we would have walked through walls to get at a pint. Myself and my comrades in arms were on the hunt f