Monday, June 16, 2008

Liver, onions and a pint of Guinness

Yes because he never did a thing like that before as ask to get his breakfast in bed with a couple of eggs since the City Arms hotel when he used to be pretending to be laid up with a sick voivedoing his highness to make himself interesting for that old Mrs Riordan that he thought he had a great leg of and she never left us a farthing all for masses for herself and her soul greatest miser ever was actually afraid to lay out 4d for her methylated spirit telling me all her ailments she had too much old chat in her about politics and earthquakes and the end of the world let us have a bit of fun first God help the world if all the women were her sort


Happy Bloomsday...

1 comment:

heather's dad said...

Pulitzer Prize notwithstanding, I never could get my head around James Joyce. His sentences, much more elongated than any of those Falkner is noted for seem to have discouraged my attempting to rread on.