Shunt dine

Contemplations of a journey North to get stuck into the Lynn brother's section of the new vid were mulling from pro to con in my muddled mind. For wan, I was fuggin smothering with a cold, mad headaches, temperature etc (sob). I couldn't think straight so I just said sure fug it, we'll see how it goes.


The reason why I found myself as the sole passenger on the Air-couch up was also another factor that was weighing heavily on my soggy brain mash. As big Stu had pointed out to me already, t'was the weekend of the 12th of July, the weekend when orangemen like to walk down the road. On the con side, things could get ugly, on the pro side the spots were freed up as the Johny Whoppers would be all out looking for rap-scallions. Its smelled a bit of bad idea, but I also smell a bit, so I thought it was a good omen.The subjects of this trip- Dlynn and his brother, whatshisname. Ah young Dennis, a humble sole with a bright future. He spent most of the trip complementing me on my toned guns and slick set-up. He constantly reminded me of the blatant ineffectiveness of his inch punch on my chiseled Bray features. "Eat dog shit and diiiie dackhed"
Biggy Stu is the illest! He played photographer, B&B host, shointer, 2a.m. spud boiler, switch flipper, driver and walking guided tour leader. Tanks Mr Stu, you're a swell fellar!
In the word's of the mighty Terry Kennedy, "What block you on? I be' there!"
This diner was called T.K. no doubt after the man himself. ...Kict it dennn!
Stubert spotted a tasty gherro bank right here but for some reason young D'lynn's delicate sole wasn't feelin it. Its still there if you fancy it- just don't wear your Dublin Airport novelty Leprechaun suit when shreddin it.
Another spat from Stu's back catalogue, this time on the Fall's road, not as good as it looked, but Dennis Lynn's brother did provide with some radical action shots for the "Charlie Chaplin" camera on Shannon's soft wheeled cruiser.
This was the best spat of the day- Cave hill, overlooking the madness. It was quite an odd weekend, a very eerie atmosphere what with the festivities and omni-present riot vans, but at the same time we didn't get the boot from any spot we hit, not one. My Mexican accent was free to flow on the mountain side as we dipped into Monsieur Stu's baguette and grape combo.


Both brothers provided rippage on both days (despite Dennis's brother having a swollen back from mini ramp carnage) all of which will be shipped off to the lab and processed in good time. It was a very unique and very memorable experience. A weekend trip to Belfast = a cure for the common cold/whinge. Thanks lads!
Here's a couple of killa sequences to whet your appetite. Jaypers tonight!