Cork. City of shame. Not culture.

It was my wife’s parents’ 50th. wedding anniversary two weekends ago. They had a party in Cork to celebrate. I didn’t want to go. They didn’t want me to go. My wife’s five brothers didn’t want me to go. My wife didn’t want me to go.

While I was there, I met up with Donncha, and, one fine Sunday, we went out and took pictures of transvestites and young boys. It was great. Here’s one!

 

Seems like quite a cruel sport to me. I might mention it to the Bishop of Cork who I met. He seemed like quite a nice man.

There would be a picture of him here, but I’m having trouble dragging and dropping the good fellow. Still, I’m not complaining. Free hosting and it’s not as if anyone’s reading this anyway!

 

 

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One Response to Cork. City of shame. Not culture.

  1. Donncha says:

    Nice shot of him! At least he was one of those that didn’t try to kill me by landing on my head! I got a couple too, although for various reasons I haven’t had time to sort through the 700-odd shots I took that day.
    Ah, come on! I know you loved taking photos of all those ladies, and not just the nurses!

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