Stephen's Green is the soft porn version of Central Park.
No hardcore junkies, skateboarders, synchronized rollerbladers in matching silver spandex. No foragers, elderly men in bikinis, horse-drawn assholes in from Iowa. No Jersey girls adding to the sidewalk chewing gum splodges. No skunk weed and beer for sale out of ice-filled garbage sacks.
Every time I walk through this manicured nice-place-to-drink-a-Fanta-and-eat-a-limp-sandwich, I miss the fuck out of Central Park.
I miss the weird and the wired. I'm not interested in ducks. Mallards? Same story. Don't get me started on herons.
We need to rough-up Stephen's Green. Let a few pit bulls loose. Tie some hammocks between the trees and tell the crazies they can sleep there at night.
We need CNN's Richard Quest to get caught doing something strange beside the lily pond, just like he did in CP. - Where he was arrested one night with meth in his pocket, a sex toy in his boot and a length of rope connecting his neck to his privates.