No Fagan, twasn’t the mash or lack of it. I wasn’t alone in detecting a smarmy, unctuous loathsome fucker who acted as if 3 or 4 absolute mucksavages had gatecrashed a funeral gathering. A snottier, more condescending prick I hadn’t encountered in my rather sheltered existence until my visit (singular) to his premises.
The bastard ran every note we produced through a scanner making us look like the Hatton Garden heist mob. We then began loudly asking for drinks we knew he hadn’t and grumbling loudly when he couldn’t deliver. He asked us to leave eventually, we happily obliged.
Did you go across the road to coopers for a few instead?
Sí Senór, a grand handy solution.
I think the lad behind the pumps knocked a laugh out of our experiences of Birdhill.
If he was a smallish enough fella, he was one of the best hurlers to come out of the parish. Unrale forward. Hurled a few times county.
Fucking Hell!
You wouldn’t see it in magdalene laundry.
What made you decide to finish the packet?
Anyone ordered any real worthwhile “at home meal kit” that delivers nationwide.
Dunnes have Padron Peppers.
Lovely fried in oil and salt. Must make them with the shhteak at weekend
They’re lovely. I throw them in the pan once the steak is cooked. Best job is to use a bit of salt directly from the container, i.e. not have it ground.
Stunning return to form from Mixer here. Never Maguire would be seething at his levels of creativity. 
Ever see the film bridesmaids?
Not yet
Missus is out tonight but that surely doesn’t mean that Friday night can’t be cekebrated.
Pan-fried Turbot fillet with homemade chips and a side of peas to give some sense of nutrition. Red burgundy to wash the lot down 
Turbot looks outstanding. Where did you get it and what did you do with it?
Unrale.