The bay... it's alive!

And kicking. And hissing and spitting. And spraying.
It did not read the warnings from Met Éireann. The warnings for yesterday. Poor internet connection. Or changed ISP*. Or it tried to come by DART and was delayed by the 5 leaves on the tracks. Or the bay just simply forgot to reset its clocks to the daylight stretching stupid thingy.
It arrived late for the party. And the bouncers would no longer let it in. It's kicking a mighty fuss at the door now, and spitting its spray in the face of its bouncing preys.
The Blackrock baths were conquered and delivered from the mediocrity of uninspired graffiti graffiters.
The bay may even decide to take of few quick licks at the irregularly interspaced sandbags casually dropped by Clontartificial vote-hungry councilors.
One thing is sure, Dublin Bay is currently churning its prawns, for an almighty chilly chowder, a gaspaccio of dizzy crustaceans.
* Intermittent Saltiness Provider


I had the pleasure today of meeting Dublin Shooter for real He caught me in the act while I was harassing a poor unsuspecting smoker.
It's a pity that I had already overstretched my lunch hour. We shall do a proper sit down and pints some day! I am actually surprised that we did not bump into each other any sooner, since we seem to gravitate around the same spots both on the north and south sides of our beloved capital. See you again Dublin Shooter and Karl!