Showing posts from December, 2014

Luke Kelly and the Red Leather Purse

I was so FAT when I was 30 my belly button echoed, and my boyfriend carried around a photo of the girl who came with his wallet. My boyfriend at the time was a doppelganger of Luke Kelly who had a tattoo of his ex’s name on his arm. He got it covered by a flower, a rose, which was unfortunate in that her name was Rose. I was not allowed to be going out with a man with a tattoo as only sailors had them back then.  At the Twins 21st on a scorching  bank holiday Monday, having been sent to the bar with a warchest of notes to buy the round for the entire table, he skidded on a piece of ham and  landed on his back with a tray of about 35 drinks and mixers  on his chest,  drenching himself to the bone with beer and ice and minerals. The Barman pulled him up out of the crowd and kicked the broken glasses and bottles under the table and took him down one of the pub promotion t-shirts that were always hanging behind every counter. To a stout drinker, it was sacrilegious and morti


The first thing they gave me in Sweden was a wooden butter knife. I thought it was a spoon for eating tubs of HB which in our house has always been known as   “ Heavy Belly ” due to an unfortunate incident when I wore a free promotional t shirt as a child.  A Butter Knife? As a welcome gift in the welcome pack which ominously had a map of the second hand shops inserted into it? Could they read my mind?  A butter knife for Butterface?  “Oh she’s lovely from the back, Butterface” ...............     The only way to explain how some people dress for the airport is they think no one else will be there. I suspect that Dublin Airport is an elaborate hoax and Swords has a real airport nearby that only Dubs know about. I had spent the evening carefully folding things into a gigantic case and when I finally sat on the lid couldn’t lead nor drive it. Use mine says Hewhomustnotbenamed and we threw everything around the room and tried again. It became patently ob