Head in the sand

For Invisible Toast, who likes

"... to sometimes do the whole giraffe thing and put my head in the sand..."

I saw this and thought of you.

Any port in a storm, eh?

Outside the Screen Cinema on Hawkins street:



It reads

"For ________ __________

GET YOUR OWN MAN YOU EVIL COW!!

SLUT" and some other stuff.

but just under the name, the bit I really love is where someone wrote:

"Whats her number?"

Always on the lookout, eh?

(I promise I'll get back to posts otherthan photos, but some are just too funny-and-strange-to-me not to share.)

C'mon, own up. Who has it? Turn out your pockets.

Honestly, the things that go missing sometimes! If you find it, do let them know...


(O' Connell Street, Dublin, this afternoon)

(I kinda wonder what the story was really about. Anyone?)

Tattoo

I saw her across the crowded pub floor. To be honest I saw the tattoo first. It was striking, as was she. I had to say something.

Emboldened by Guinness, pint in hand I made stepped gingerly through the crowd and stood beside her, waiting until she finished talking to her friends before I started to speak. So I stood and waited.

"Hello" I said, eventually. "That's a great tattoo."

"Erm, thanks." she said, no doubt wondering who I was and what I wanted.

"I spotted it across the room and couldn't take my eyes off it." I said, master of that type of uncomfortable conversation. "Have you had it long?"

"A while." She said, no doubt hoping that was it, looking at her friends in hope of rescue.

"Well" I said, "It's brilliant. Can I take a photo? Would you mind?"

"Erm, I suppose so" she said, seeing as I already had the camera ready to go. She stood and I snapped.



"Thanks" I said, putting the camera away. "I'm impressed to see it as a tattoo. I love the design."

"Oh really?" she said, sounding as if she'd heard this particular line a hundred times before, "So you know it? I had it done from The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe. You like the poem?"

A challenge? Bailemos!

"Ah" says I, "Really? There was me thinking it was inspired by Don Quixote by de Cervantes Saavedra. That's where I know it from."

"Oh?" she said.

"Yes" I said. "Funny. I carry the same one around on my keyring."



Not a bad end to the conversation at all, at all. Pity it's also the end to this post - I honestly don't know how to finish it. Any ideas?

There were Wham bars too

The tuck shop at the weekend. Yummy.

My favourite photo of me, ever...

(Click for bigger)

I don't really like the caught-in-action photo 'portraits' of me because they never catch the full moment - just one glimpse or aspect of it. Because I find it difficult to not be doing something, I'm all too often caught mid pose looking silly. There are MANY photos that can attest to that!

Not in the photo above though, which my friend Nina took at the St Patrick's Day parade.

I've always felt outside. I've always known that no matter how involved I would be, there's still be something else people were looking at, were grasping for or were surprised by. I enter into minds for a second or three and am then instantly forgotten as something better comes along.

In some ways the photo sums that up perfectly. I like it.