W en yyou opened th Wh he door I had d to laugh I looked lik ke that when I was in Belfast. Beard outt he h ree and longg hair. Lo L oked ed d like Le L nnon. H ve you heaard Ha r tha hat ne n w Be Beat atle tl s al album m yet?
I wa w s ma m d Mi M ck. I waas on nly y you o r ag a e. T ey Th y sho h utted d at us iin n th he st streets,, and d I, I fu fuck c in ck ingg sh hou uted ba b ck k. ‘Y ‘You ou u’rre a pa p dd d y’ y Th They h y tol o d me m . I saaid d too rig ight lit ittl tle boy. y
They e off ffer e ed dm mee a me meda d l, you da u know, Mick. M ntioon in Me i disspaattcche hes. s You ur mu mum’’s br b othe h r he Fram Fr amed am e thee phootoograp ph, h but u I did i n’t want n it. H re He r . It I ’ss the h letter from the chiief of st s aff.
W nt Wa n to se s e th he bu b lllett wou und d? Or O the tattoo? D you Do o wan a t an nothe herr be beer e beffore you u go g ?
Born Outside Belfast: II Michael Duffy