A mate of ours called Conor hooked up with this bird from Dublin. They were lying on his bed in the nip after doing the deed when she took his semi in her hand and gave it an appraising look for a minute, moving it back and forth, before turning her head to the side and saying in a flat Dublin accent, “Ah yeah. It’s a grand oul mickey, isn’t it?”

Priceless. So Dublin. 

Conor works as a carpenter and has a rather impressive tattoo spanning the length of his shoulder and arm. I thought I should reflect a sense of him in the materiality and design of the piece.

I have a t-shirt design just perfect for Conor too.