Even When In Dublin. . .

When trying to describe my life at home to my new freinds here in Dublin. . . Elm Street is, of corse, the base of my stories.

I described it to them as a kind of "dirty commune of artists, thinkers, slackers, and drunkards that occupy a corner of a street and most of my social life."

I got some weird looks.

I then went on to explain it was "kind of like combineing heven and hell with booze, sex, and college."

I got more weird looks.

SO. . . I have come to the relization that there is no way to even begin to descibe the things that have happened to me and around me on Elm street.

We are all so fucking weird, and by weird I mean awsome, and by awsome I mean As mush as I l0ve Dublin. . . the people that make up the spirt of Elm street will mkae it not so bad to come home. . .