07/11/2007 Dear Jack, If you thought the air was bad at the Chinese embassy, you should smell the whippey's burger emporium in Newtownards at four-thirty on a cold Saturday morning. I just spent two hours eating steak burgers and reading your piece on 'Tibet' in running... drinking a hell of a lot of coffee, because a man with spiky hair and shorts past the knee can't just hang around a Burger shop in the orange heartland without running up a tab, especially if he's ducking outside every few minutes to drink copious amounts of southern comfort and tripping off those rotten shrooms.... Risky business, all in all. You want to get down into a bunker and locked the exits for that kind of action. The parking lot across from a housing estate elegantly decorated in union jacks is a bad place to get weird and it's even worse if you keep coming back inside and reading the same goddamn magazine and making the waitress jumpy by laughing out loud every few minutes and smacking the stained orange countertop and smoking Lucky Strike cigarettes in a holder.... Jesus Christ, That was a hell of a long Article. I kept thinking I could finish it off with just one more mouth full of whiskey or maybe if the shrooms would let me concentrate, but the fucker kept on going, like a thing I would have written myself and when I finished the bastard I tipped the fishead bitch five pound and cycled like a bastard to safe terrain eighteen miles in forty minutes. Its the most fun I've had in a while, and a really fine piece of writing and I hope to read some more but If that piece had have gone on for a few more pages, I'd have ripped the apron off that fishead women and fucked her right there on the stove... Say hello to the rest of the Lads and I'll see you again next time I'm up there in Rape Country
