Two men meet for a pint in a Dublin pub. They chew the fat, set the world to rights, take the piss… They talk about their wives, their kids, their kids’ pets, their football teams and – this being Ireland in 2011–12 –about the euro, the crash, the presidential election, the Queen’s visit. But these men are not parochial or small-minded; one of them knows where to find the missing Colonel Gaddafi (he’s working as a cleaner at Dublin Airport); they worry about Greek debt, the IMF and the bondholders ( whatever they might be); in their fashion, they mourn the deaths of Whitney Houston, Donna Summer, Davy Jones and Robin Gibb; and they ask each other the really important questions like ‘Would you ever let yourself be digitally enhanced?’ Inspired by a year’s worth of news, Two Pints distils the essence of Roddy Doyle’s comic genius. This book shares the concision of a collection of poems, and the timing of a virtuoso comedian.
Collected for the first time, here is almost a decade's worth of elections and referendums, births and deaths, football, financial crashes, pandemics and the philosophical questions of life, as told through the wit and warmth of Roddy Doyle ...
Two men meet for a pint in a Dublin pub.
They chew the fat, set the world to rights, curse the ref, say a last farewell… In this second collection of comic dialogues Doyle’s drinkers ponder: - a topless Kate Middleton - Barack and Michelle Obama (‘fuckin’ gorgeous’) - ...
... Two hours later, Janet came back to the girl to find that the nurse had got two pints in. After that night, they devised needles to transfuse into the bone marrow. They had special flanges to hold them in place, so they could be used on ...
... two parts; firstly, they could procure two pints, and secondly the two pints in question would be local. However, as for being the 'finest' I would again remind the reader that our story takes place in Hartlepool. “Two pints it is then ...