It always ends in tears….Boys should never play with guns
I’ve been off the grid the last few days. Sooo 1850s. I went to see a medium and as I was telling Ysi she was more of a small, coming in at 155cm and weighing 45 kg. Still she was able to see the future. And as I suspected it’s not pretty. My brother John’s political rantings have so influenced his son that he got seriously involved with the movement for independence and the plight of those who fled the famine for America by helping to establish the Irish-American Colonisation Company in 1880. My nephew, John, stored guns on the site of the brewery for revolution. Because it was not proven that he was directly involved he escaped a jail sentence but the brewery was given a punitive fine (guns and alcohol is never a good idea). The fine, coupled with the financial loss caused by his American exploits, bankrupt the brewery which was then bought out by Guinness six years after I died. At least I did not have to see the Brewery’s sale but I did see its rapid demise. After that John devoted himself to politics full time and co-founded Sinn Fein in 1905. When we won independence in 1921 John felt he was too old to contest the election and so my son Roger stood for a seat which he won. However Roger resigned from parliament less than 12 months later. He stood down as a contentious objector as he did not like the direction the civil war was taking. And he didn’t even have a keg to drown his sorrows in. Ironically we married into a bunch of alcoholics after that. They really missed the boat. Next time my gggs drinks a pint of Guinness I’m going to haunt him with the worst hangover ever.
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