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20 August 1999

This particular series was taken when I was drunk and angry with the world about something. However, unlike certian Irish poets, I don't seem to do my best work while under the influence.

I think I was trying to be some sort of Italian godfather. Imagine me mumbling incoherent rubbish about debts of honour and my family and you probably have a good idea of what I was doing.

I sure had a bunch of squinty eye action going on that night though.

You will notice that I still had my large sideburns.

** 1/2

just warming up

** 1/2

"my mother what?"

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"a wise guy, eh?"

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"maybe you need to meet "the fixer" "

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"I treated you like a son"

*

"did you come to ask my blessing when you became a police officer?"

*

"and you could have been an excellent plumber."

** 1/2

"come here, I have a present for you ... bang bang bang"

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more idiotic finger pointing

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"it was easily this big..."

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"then it bit off my hand..."

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"are you lookin' at me?"

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kumface

*

even I don't know what this is about

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"my own son, how could you?"

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"your children, and your children's children"