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About Waterford

Favorite part? When they hit that spot – y’know, right where stress hides, ‘n’ ya melt. “I follow my path,” Nie Yinniang’d say – them hands follow theirs, ‘n’ yer like, “Yee-haw, take me there!” Ain’t no PG stuff neither – it’s steamy, borderline naughty. Ever tried it with scented oils? Lavender’s my jam – smells like victory, calms the nerves. Surprised me how them lil’ details amp it up – Bush don’t do half-measures!

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Anyway, I finally make it to the shops. I’m grabbing some milk and bread, you know, the essentials. And then I see this old fella, Mr. O’Reilly, trying to carry his shopping. He’s struggling, bless him. So, I rush over, “Here, let me help ya!” He’s all grateful, and I’m feeling like a hero for a sec. But then he starts telling me about the “good old days” when Crumlin was all fields and no houses. I’m like, “Yeah, mate, but I kinda like my house.”

Death Notice of John (Jack) Farrell (Crumlin, Dublin)