Keeping Up with the Kalashnikovs
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Summary
My friend, Fionn, was being held hostage in, I don't know, Unganga Nanga, and the Government was refusing to send in a team of marines to extract him. Pack of focking cauliflower worriers ...
I wouldn't have minded being bound and gagged in a basement - just for some peace and quiet. My wife was up the spout again. My daughter had grown into a mix between Suri Cruise and a Chucky doll. And one or two other chickens - well, birds - were coming home to roost.
Suddenly, I realized what I had to do - go and get Fionn back.
Except what I didn't realize was that Unganga Nanga was no country for old tens.
I wouldn't have minded being bound and gagged in a basement - just for some peace and quiet. My wife was up the spout again. My daughter had grown into a mix between Suri Cruise and a Chucky doll. And one or two other chickens - well, birds - were coming home to roost.
Suddenly, I realized what I had to do - go and get Fionn back.
Except what I didn't realize was that Unganga Nanga was no country for old tens.
Reviews
Our nation's great satirist ... the most sustained feat of comic writing in Irish literature
John Boyne, Irish Times
