Tales Of The Gurrier

Night spread an inky blackness across the grey spires of the unhappy city. The moon appeared momentarily from cover and down below briefly illuminated in the rain slicked streets a dark figure approached the warped and twisted entrance of a dilapidated tenement house. The Bastard Kesey gazed upwards at the boarded up windows and smiled [...]

As a bleak grey morning broke over the valley a thin scratching sound could be heard coming from The Hut. Several sheets of torn, yellowing paper appeared under the door. Kesey bent down and snatched them up. “What’s it like?” said Heinous “are there any guns?” Keseys lips moved as he read the last few [...]

He stumbled away from his quarry eyes burning, blood streaming from the wounds to his face. His clothes were filthy, his beloved writers jacket a foul rag, stained and torn beyond redemption. His breath stank of whiskey and he staggered forward on ragged knees. Raising the bloody stumps of his typing fingers he gazed into [...]

The wretched scabrous figure lay sprawled where he had collapsed, down amongst the debris and detritus of his labours. His ravaged form twitching spasmodically. From time to time a low moaning sound would utter from his cracked lips; unearthly and guttural. The darkness of the hovel formed a cocoon around the slumbering figure. The air [...]

“Bastard Pope” snarled Kesey hurling the remote at the tv. “Bastard Pope on every bastard channel and Fools and Fucking Horses on the rest!” Popeshite everywhere, he tossed a bunch of newspapers at the Gurrier’s feet. Look at this bollix! Fecking Godsuckers worming out of every boghole in the country. It’s a Jesusbiscuit eating infestation. [...]

Grey morning crept over the Clondalkin valley like dirty dishwater from a greasy privy outflow. Clondalkin’s cannibal knackers were safely tucked up in the bowels of their hovels. The destruction and violence of the night before now the problem of the Gards and Tallaght hospital accident and emergency ward. As the weak sun struggled to [...]

A chill wind whipped down lonely Dawson Street as we marched glumly toward our destination. Searchlights whirled overhead, spears of neon bathed the building in lurid streams of illumination. A garish, luminous precursor to the baleful and malignant events to come. The crowd gathered outside had a nasty feral look. Sporting the glazed over vistas [...]

Paddy’s Day. Dawning with green eyed malice over unhappy Dublin. The country gripped with the plague fear all gatherings cancelled, gangs of agriculture civil servants roaming the streets armed with rubber truncheons and industrial strength disinfectant. Dousing Mayo accented savages in gallons of evil smelling jeyes fluid, rounding them up in paddy wagons full of [...]