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About Drogheda

So there I was, pissed off, cos the pubs were dry of decent company. We shall fight the silence, the empty beds! Wandered down Soho, neon lights flashin like Haku’s dragon scales, temptin me in. Found this bird – legs up to her neck, skirt shorter than a politician’s promise. “How much, love?” I says, heart thumpin like a drum solo. She grins, all sly, “Fifty quid, big boy.” Fifty! Blimey, I nearly choked – coulda bought a bleedin amp for that!

Exploring Unknown Horizons

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First off, I hit up the local café on the corner of the main street. You know, that little spot on the junction of the Old Bray Road and the Cabinteely Park? Yeah, that one. I ordered my usual—coffee, black, no sugar. But guess what? They messed it up! Like, how hard is it to get a simple order right? I mean, c’mon! I was ready to throw a fit, but then I saw the barista’s face. Poor kid looked like he’d just seen a ghost. So, I just rolled my eyes and took the latte instead. Whatever, right?

Death Notice of Peter (Ginger) LYNCH (Cabinteely, Dublin)