The bustling Shannon airport. By bustling, I mean not bustling. but I guess thats a good thing when you're in a hurry to watch Simone on the plane ride home. Which was totally me, because that's such a good movie. Good like getting hepatitis.

The Cliffs Of Moher. There is a brilliant shot of these in the fantastic film called "The Matchmaker" with Janeane Garofalo. I'm just kidding about that movie being fantastic. It's like revisiting the Irish famine on your television. I got a flat tire on my Fiat Punto on the way to these cliffs.

We got the guided tour of the Ring Of Kerry in this giant Mercedes something-or-other by a ham-fisted Irishman who had a penchant for smoking cigarettes whenever there was a free moment. Have you ever smelled burning peat? Man, that stuff stinks!

Probably my favorite place to visit was Blarney Castle. It should have been named Barney Castle, because that's kinda funnier. There are lots of little cracks & caves to explore as well as an area to the left full of places called "The Witch's Kitchen" and "The Witch's Stone" and "The Druidic Circle". I climbed on something labeled "The Sacrificial Alter" and hurt my ankle climbing down.

Here's a picture of Julia kissing the Blarney Stone shortly before I poured old cereal milk all over it. I didn't kiss that filthy rock, I'll tell you what. Apparently you're supposed to tip the guy who feels you up as you touch your lips to the germ infested stone.

The Rock Of Cashel. I found this place to be a total snooze-fest, and I fell down a flight of wet stairs here. Really. It hurt. A lot.

Bunratty Castle, and it's kinda tilted!

Typical Irish Lassie, outside of the Bunratty Castle.

The world famous Durty Nelly's where "traditional Irish music" means songs by 4 Non Blondes and Bruce Springsteen played on piano and banjo.

The 2002 Fiat Punto. Fix it again, Tony.

The smelly pee hallway of Dublin. I wish I could tell you where it is, so you could avoid it. Or, if you like the smell of pee, you could go to it.

Typical Dublin teenager, drunk and leaning on something - wearing a green coat.

Drinking the ever-present pint atop the Guinness Brewery in Dublin. After this picture was taken, a drunken Irishman approached me and made the same hand gesture and said, "Cinescope!". No fooling.

The time honored Irish tradition of pouring soap into historical fountains on New Year's Day. Did I mention that they play U2 all day, every day on the radio?

Supermac's in Gort. Ateenaged hooligan called me Elvis here! No shit! Elvis! This is Ireland's 'original fast-food restaurant'. It tasted a lot like Rally's or Checkers.

The Supermac hamburger. They even called the fries by their proper name, for which I salute them. But the ketchup was some sort of runny tomato sauce.

William Butler Yeats' summer home outside of Gort. It was closed, but quite a nice place. It was quiet and I threw a lot of logs into the river to watch them go under the bridge. There was a small ruined house just to the east with an obscured path. Julia and I traveled down the path and found the mythical home of Penelope The Magical Pony. This pony was filthy but could hover 2 feet above the ground as well as communicate using small words like 'unnnng' and 'urrntng'.

By far, the best part of my trip was meeting Penelope The Magical Pony.

Here's an excellent Pye sign in Gort. I tried to wrangle it down, but the shop-keeper came out and was all like, 'Hey, get down from there!'.

My last picture is of the ancient Poulnabrone Dolmen time-portal located in The Burren. If you walk through this, and then fly back to the US, you travel back in time 6 hours. That's Charles Rickert in the picture, and he loves Hall & Oates.