the 2015 lockout
Strolling on the avenue.
Rowena Baines hoves into view with her two kids, bright as buttons.
"James," she cries, "your hair! It's an American cut isn't it. A real marine cut. So you went back to Eilis Phillips! Did you apologize?"
Then she looks more closely.
The kids gawp a bit too.
"Eilis didn't do that," she muses, "there are gaps everywhere?"
"I did it myself," I pronounce grandly.
She stares.
"James," she intones grimly, "go back to Eilis Phillips."
So saying she gathers up her little ones and hurries away.
Rowena Baines hoves into view with her two kids, bright as buttons.
"James," she cries, "your hair! It's an American cut isn't it. A real marine cut. So you went back to Eilis Phillips! Did you apologize?"
Then she looks more closely.
The kids gawp a bit too.
"Eilis didn't do that," she muses, "there are gaps everywhere?"
"I did it myself," I pronounce grandly.
She stares.
"James," she intones grimly, "go back to Eilis Phillips."
So saying she gathers up her little ones and hurries away.
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