for sale at the bernard shaw carboot sale once. faxing is fun. you scribble something on a piece of paper, put it in a fax machine and send it to the other side of the world. much nicer than emails, when you think about it. i can't wait until faxing is so old fashioned that it's cool.
i tried to open it but it was locked. weird. maybe it's because it was a sunday? i mean, it says 'open the door'.
in temple bar, on east essex street. it is where junkies shoot up. people can watch them through the small windows. sometimes a junkie overdoses and dies and an ambulance arrives and the people watching say 'oh my god' and shake their heads. then they go to starbucks.
junkies are scary. they mug people when they need money. i'm scared that one day they will need my money. but it's no one else's problem, really, i can just take a taxi.
and realised that the best thing about summer in ireland is that you never have to queue for an ice cream. if you ever feel like having an ice cream, that is.
in dublin, it is fashionable for girls to paint their bodies orange. often streaky orange. i like to think of them as a new race: the orange people.
outside a church in portobello. it made me wonder, why does jesus always look so miserable? like he's really really sad. why? i don't think i've ever seen him smile in my whole life. depressing.
