2006 has mere hours left to live. You may have noticed I’ve been rushing these last few days to post all the news, updates, and dangling loose ends before the new year begins. We all like a fresh start from time to time, and I wanted to put any old business to rest so I wouldn’t have to think about it in 2007.

I’ve already written the final word on Paddywhacking. But in the interest of being utterly complete, I’ll sign off the year with a collection of leftover images from the project and my time in Dublin that never found a home in any previous blog entry.

All the trendier restaurants name themselves after deceased dictators. Can a Saddam’s be far off?

Some of the Paddywhacking gang and associates do what they do best. Drink wine.

I don’t want to know what he’s thinking about doing with that thumb.

My Irish nemesis. The most powerful hotel shower in the world. I still have bruises.

The Stag’s Head. I guess if your pub is old enough, you get to advertise on the pavement.

Pst. It’s this way.

It’s always interesting to drink in a pub that’s a century or two older than my home country.

Anna Merritt and I play dueling digital photography inside The Stag’s Head.

Dublin buildings are just cool looking.

Anna inside the homey Subotica offices. They’re set up in Neil Jordan‘s old flat.

Insomnia coffee and a peat fire announce it’s time to get to work.

We filled all too many white boards with this sort of story-structure gobbledygook.

The touristy shops started about ten feet away from the hotel.

A view of The Fitzwilliam hotel from St. Stephen’s Green. Whenever I’m in Dublin (and someone else is paying), I stay at the Fitz.

St. Stephen’s Green is full of trees that are very old.

And gnarled.

And textured.

See you in the new year.