Four loonies took to the water today, in Finbarr's yacht. Beers for the other three and a bottle of poitín (English - potcheen) for this uber-loony. I had to take a two hour 'power nap' when I got back.
The sailing was good, if a little chilly. Finbarr and I, as per usual, were arguing over who had the best hurling team. Finbarr had the misfortune to be born in Cork. Imagine that. Being wrong and born in Cork. What a life. Up the Cats!