OK so the story so far:

Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed. A yellow dressinggown, ungirdled, was sustained gently behind him on the mild morning air. He held the bowl aloft and intoned:

—Introibo ad altare Dei.

Halted, he peered down the dark winding stairs and called out coarsely:

—Come up, Kinch! Come up, you fearful jesuit!

Solemnly he came forward and

You’ll see we left you last year with a bit of a cliff-hanger which we are happy to resolve this year so here it is in simlcast with twitter:

and mounted the round gunrest. He faced about and blessed gravely thrice the tower, the surrounding land and the awaking mountains. Then, ca 

The Loyal Reader: And that’s it then?

It is.

The Loyal Reader: And you’re doing it a day early?

Our research has shown 88% of your audience only ever views this page while at work.

The Loyal Reader: Ah, fair enough.  Don’t forget the gratuitous reference to the spandex bikini to draw the punters.  Right I’m off.!

Are you not staying around for the discussion?

The Loyal Reader: There’s a football game on somewhere.   Sad display yesterday – a rough encounter with the rows of cast steel you might say – but the singing was lovely.

Olé! Olé! Olé! Olé!



On the fields ot Athenry

[CTRL+Q Exit singing]