Saw two guys walking down the street in a fairly awful Irlanda town the other day. They looked like the type of brothers who lived with their elderly dad, who may already be battered and buried in the back garden beside the ornamental Virgin Mary their dead mother insisted on procuring. One of them was wearing a shirt and tie, but unkempt like. The other was wearing a t-shirt which was too small to cover his beer belly. It read,

“Howya Horse!”

Sometimes I love this country. Sometimes I fear. I fear.

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