Birthday Boy

Poor old Dublin Shooter is 70!

I threw a party last night in T.P. Smiths in Jervis Street. A good turnout, and a great night — apart, that is, from the start, when we clashed with the big football match and the place was jam-packed with screaming over-excited fans. When the equaliser was scored in injury time I must admit to a degree of frustration, but we were enjoying ourselves anyway, and the staff were very apologetic and helpful and did their best to keep our reserved area interference free. Once the match was over, things were just fine.

This was just after midnight, when the cake came out with its seven candles and I attacked for the ceremonial cutting of the cake. Things broke up around 2:00 am, when Carl and I went on to spend the night in the Gibson hotel.