(N.B. - not "quail eggs"...)
Yesterday, I was down in Castleisland to visit my cousin Redmond Roche. We had a jam session and recorded some (very) rough pieces of music. It was great crack...
...but as I spent about seven hours either standing up playing the bass or crouching on the floor trying to sort out various issues of a sound engineering nature (as in "where does that lead go to?", "where's that buzzing sound coming from?" or "why is nothing working?"), I woke up this morning back in Nenagh, suffering from a bad case of quill legs.
Quill legs is a phenomenon which is not unique to Nenagh, but which is suffered by a significant number of people, mostly men, from the town. The Quill is a famous pub in Nenagh and has been the location for many memorable work booze-ups over the years. These usually involved five or six hours of drinking beer, talking shite and...standing. The following day, one would wake up with a thumping headache, caused in part by the volume of alcohol consumed the night before and also (in the "good old days") by active and passive smoking. And of course, one would suffer from very stiff legs and derriere from all the standing. Quill legs.
Regards,
djp
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Some random thoughts on life and that type of thing. Nothing hugely earth-shattering, but still, some people might find this mildly amusing.
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