With All This Sun, Greystonians Confused Over What To Complain About

here’s something strange, in our neighbourhood.

A bright yellow ball in the sky. That brings forth warmth and joy.

And it’s confusing the hell out of Greystonians. Especially those who like to complain about the weather.

“We rely on bad weather for our daily moan,” explains Mary O’Cailleach, of 13 Donald Trump Drive. “I like to get up in the morning, look out the window, and go, “Ah, Jaysus, will this feckin’ rain ever stop!?”, and then I have me Nescafe and me smoke. This stupid sun has thrown me routine way out of wack. Even the dog is looking at me funny.

“Haven’t kicked him for two whole days now.”

With the great weather bringing people out to Greystones seafront in droves – including 100 hardy souls at 4.45am this morning for The Happy Pear’s dawn love-in, Smugrise – there’s been a major outbreak of smiling in the town. Coupled with an alarming increase in sunny dispositions.

“It’s all just too much,” snapped Sheila Gearán, 2,378c Charlesland Mansions. “I don’t know what to do with myself. Or my two friends. Normally, of an afternoon, we’d be taking shelter in the doorway of the recently-closed Xtra-vision, tut-tutting to one another about the appalling summer we’re having. Yesterday, we just stood there, motionless. With nothing to say.

“I even got sunburn on me foot. Bastard sun.”

Thankfully, there was a stray dog found down at the harbour this morning, which turned out to be an elderly mutt who likes to wander from his home nearby. The issue of who was going to pick up this sweet old dog’s poo, and what if, you know, he jumped out in front of a car and caused a juggernaut to swerve into an orphanage, well, that brought some welcome dark clouds for some to all this silver lining nonsense.

“When I saw that sun again, I hardly had the energy to turn on me laptop this morning,” smiled Sheila, “but, holy majoly, was I glad that I did. There it was – a dog, loose, on the new harbour, and everyone was fine with it.

“I posted a few complaints about it all as quick as I could on Facebook, and then texted me two friends. We’re meeting down there at noon, to have a good old moan. If we’re lucky, the dog might still be there, and we can take a few selfies with the old fella, where we look all cross. Or scared. We haven’t decided yet.

“It’s just wonderful, living in a town like Greystones,” finishes Ms Gearán. “No matter how good life might seem, no matter how many joyous swims, free outdoor screenings or happy community gatherings might be swirling about the town, just one quick visit to Greystones Open Farm, and I’ve got my grump on again.

“Now, about this feckin’ Guide, young man, and your so-called ‘funny’ stories…”