Irish Sisters Make Excellent Assassins

The Irish Flag“So which one are you again?” the young girl asked cutting a piece of ice cream cake with her fork.  The rest of Bree’s friends sitting on the asphalt looked up from their desserts and smiled.  Over the years most of the family has grown accustomed to questions of this sort.  All big families must suffer similar interviews: What’s your number in line?; Were you born before or after Sean?; How many years apart are you guys?  Luckily I developed my own patented response for situations like these.

“Murph, I’m Brigid’s oldest brother.  Eldest and best looking of the bunch.”

“Yeah right . . .” Bree mumbles her mouth full of cake.  “More like a hairy sasquatch.”

Bree has developed her own counter-response apparently.  Brilliant. Continue reading

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Snow Apocalypse

Just when you thought it was safe to plow . . . the snow begins again.  Wave 2 of this winter storm, what the newscasters have brilliantly dubbed “Snow-apocalypse 2010,” is presently frosting the canals and alleyways we’ve constructed over the last few days for vehicles and emergency egress lest one of us accidentally swallow a Monopoly hotel or a bear attacks — it happens.

Thus,  I am forecasting a slow week here at Murphey’s Pub and a perfect opportunity for a little photojournalism to showcase the blizzard for those readers in Brazil, which I imagine doesn’t receive much of this stuff. Continue reading