Saint Patrick’s Day
17/03/2011
I only ever remember this incident on Saint Patrick’s day. The rest of the year it is lost to me. Talking of true stories, I am telling a story at TAPAC, Western Springs, Auckland, this Sunday night at 7.30 pm. $10 and all proceeds go to the Christchurch Earthquake.
I have also noticed that every time I draw myself I look different. When I finally stop gazing into my naval and get around to writing a real, fictional graphic novel, I will pencil first and ink second. I do all of these drawings on the fly — hence, the rough edges.
Oh, and here’s some Pogues for you.
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LET ME BE FRANK 
I like the rough edges.
Ha ha, very good. I can visualise this character but he seems like Dylan Moran to me. Very good.
I love it. Funnily the Irish never seem to care that you are descendants. Maybe there are too many of us now.
I thought everybody in NZ was either Irish or Maori. My Irish band was playing in a bar in Colorado one night when a rugby team from NZ came in. We’d play a song and then they’d sing the kiwi version of it while we tried to follow along, and then they’d buy around round and we’d play another song. Sometimes they’d start off with a song and one of us would recognize it and do the Irish version. And then they’d buy another round.
Never mind climbing out the bathroom window. By the end of that night, we were lucky we could climb out the front door.
Yeah – what Joseph said