So i go home, stop off for Carbonara at the excellent Gypsy bar and it would appear I'm on a quest, the quest, to get my bag back it just so happens there is a movie on, so i go back to see the movie and get my bag.
The movie? Woman of the dunes, and existentialist black and white movie, the most important movie since Albert Camu's book about something or other, I'm betting on something.
So i met a local woman (Fitzroyality) that collected old folk songs, now, she sang some of them, some were in Irish, the pronunciation was really good, since she couldn't speak the language.
She made the claim that she opened the first cafe on Brunswick St, i think, now it's called Mario's, there was a butcher next door, and she started the whole street going, someone later claimed that was bullshit so much for claiming things.
In Cork, if you said 'I claim yea', it would roughly translate as 'Hey fella, i would like to do as much damage to your bodily temple, with my hands, plus both of my feet, knees, elbows...... ect.
Isn't useless information great, like you needed to know any of that, but forgetting my bag was like a message from the universe, i would never have seen the movie if i didn't forget my bag, someone up there is watching me and if your up there, superman, i'd like to say, your doing a great job.
And it was back to the land of the great Carbonara, to meat some familiar faces.
So i hung out with a guy that used to work at Gypsy, i told I'm the story of losing my bag, they were looking at me (blank look, you see the same look from dazzled rabbits on the road at night), and then i put my hand in my pocket and felt a banana, so i pulled it out and said, do you want a banana?)
Oh how we laughed, they thought i was truly mad, off i went to bar open for conversation out the back.
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