--He's a bloody dark horse himself, says Joe.
--Mind, Joe, says I. Show us the entrance out.
--There you are, says Terry.
Goodbye Ireland I'm going to Gort. So I just went round the back of
the yard to pumpship and begob (hundred shillings to five) while I was
letting off my (THROWAWAY twenty to) letting off my load gob says I to
myself I knew he was uneasy in his (two pints off of Joe and one in
Slattery's off) in his mind to get off the mark to (hundred shillings is
five quid) and when they were in the (dark horse) pisser Burke
was telling me card party and letting on the child was sick (gob, must
have done about a gallon) flabbyarse of a wife speaking down the tube
SHE'S BETTER or SHE'S (ow!) all a plan so he could vamoose with the
pool if he won or (Jesus, full up I was) trading without a licence (ow!)
Ireland my nation says he (hoik! phthook!) never be up to those
bloody (there's the last of it) Jerusalem (ah!) cuckoos.
|