Pat Molyneux.

Pat Moleyneux came into town today.
All the way from the Glen Of Imaal, from his home at the root of Lugnaquilla, where they know about snow, and when its due to arrive.
"Soon", he reckons.
Of Hugenot stock, he admits, though denies any knowledge of the Hugenot Massacre, nor the Memorial Cemetery near St Stephens Green.
No historian him, so.
His mate Henry arrived soon after....
H; "What has you in the town of this hoors melt of a day, Pat?"
P; "I come in to get the messages, had to walk to Donard forfuckssake just to get a spin"
H; "You coulda rung me, forfuckssake, sure Im only havin a couple of small wans"
P; "I need new boots outof Quinns, thought I might break them in"
H; "Quinns The Road, or Quinns The Town?"
P; "Quinns The Road, yafuckineegit, Quinns The Town only do wimmins boots, I want real boots."
And so it went.
Pat, break the boots back to Baltinglass soon.