Ronny Moodle

Me name is Ronny Moodle and I live with me mam in a small place in Dublin. It’s not much but it’s the only home I’ve ever know. There’s been a lot ‘a talk round town bout me on account of me age. Folk don’t think it’s right fer a grown lad like meself te be living with me mam. They say it’s unhealthy or some other bollocks. Anyway when I was down the pub the night befer last I strolled through te the pisser only te find Mickey O’Donovan waiting fer me. He’s been teasing me bout me curly red hair and patchy freckles since I was a toddler. I seem to maintain the position of turning the other cheek on account of the fact that he’s a big lad. A big lad fired up on a couple of stale pints of Guinness waiting fer you at the entrance te the bog; it’s the stuff nightmares are made of. It didn’t get any better. I spent most of tha’ night with me head in the crapper, misplacing my inhaler in the process and having a mild panic attack. I told me mam I’m moving out.