After Friday's harrowing events, Saturday passed without too much happening. Had to call around to his Mum and offer my condolences. But she was inconsolable and overcome with grief. Jay, her only son, had been taken from her by a corrupt regime intent on holding on to power for as long as possible. I couldn't help notice the upcoming election posters across the road from Jay's house. It had a picture of one of Governor Ahern's cabinet ministers offering to shed 20 stone if she got re-elected.

Jay's mother showed me around the house. The entire gaff was littered with magician kits. It reminded me of the time we went to a wedding and Jay pretended to turn four barrels of Budweiser into pisswater. Not much magic used there then.

I found out that Jay's remains had been taken away to a tomb that Dick Roche built in the event of a nuclear attack on the country. Some of the guys said that he has probably gone to visit the righteous dead in the spirit world. He'll most likely bump into Jim Morrison, Elvis and Liam Lawlor there.

It's a dreary day and there's a lot of hanging around eating ham sandwiches and talking shit to his relatives. "Oh, he was too good for this world". "He's gone to a better place". "It's times like this that you have to rely on your religion". Tossers.

tags:holysaturday

Published by Colm.