Cereal Madrid

I've never been to Italy. I feel pretty bad about it.

I had the chance to go, and didn't. It's harder to get to from where I am now. Maybe I'll never go.

I don't think I'd like to go to Russia. 

I cycled to Germany twice, from Luxembourg. It wasn't very far. It was great.

I'm not really in the mood for travelling these days. Except on my bike, to New York, with a trailer and Sarah in it.

Apart from that, I'm most interested in getting some sleep. 

A lie-in feels now like a decadent luxury, an impossibility. Wee babies will get you up early, that's the rules about being a ma or da. You can't mess about and shirk your responsibility. But you wouldn't even want to.

You were a wee baby once.

I was bald, with a round, white face and red cheeks.

I don't want to go to any cities for a while. I just want to go to the seaside. I didn't like the sea very much as a child. I was pretty indifferent to it.

My love for the sea grew as I got older. I like it more and more. 

I don't care about boats very much. Just being in the sea, swimming.

I saw an octopus once, in the water, it was brilliant, he moved dead fast. I will always remember it. Octopus tastes nice, better than squid.

My ma and da would never eat squid, or octopus, or fancy fish. Just cod, and maybe haddock.

Parents are brilliant, they have better rules and are more selfless than their ungrateful bastard children.

I want Sarah to think the same of me and Tina- a timeless, old-fashioned, honourable and quaint ma and da. Can't work the fucking internet, hates pasta, wears jumpers, reads Ireland's Own, likes dogs, that sort of thing.

Imagine you were like Lady GaGa or something to your children, all cutting edge and cool, and all. Fuck that. 

There's a wee man up the road from us who dresses like a 50's beatnik and runs about with his weans like fashion accessories. I'm going to boot him in the balls and piss all up against the side of his house.

Aye, Montreal is full of cool parents, in the sense of being a city with lots of pretentious hipster bastards who have children.

They can all fuck off. 

I'm getting a car with wood panelling on the side, tomorrow. You can shove your SmartCar up your hole. It'd probably fit, 'cos the SmartCars so wee, and your hole is so big. My car will be massive and inefficient, like a fucking Kleenex box with wheels.

We'll holiday at the seaside, we three. 

You'll see me on the beach, wearing a tank top, bald, with a round, white face and red cheeks.