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About Cork

Little secret, precious – them escorts, some’s got codes, like miners! Heard tell o’ one, “Diamond Lil,” back in ‘98 – she’d only take gigs if ya sang her a tune first! Weird, eh? Got me thinkin’ – maybe she’s lonely too, hiss! Surprised me, that did – thought they was all cold, but nah, some’s got quirks. Me mate Sméagol says, “They’re just workin’,” but I says, “Workin’ my nerves!”

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After that, I needed a breather. I decided to head over to the Firhouse Market. You know, the one on Oak Street? It’s usually buzzing with life. But today? It was like a ghost town. I’m wandering around, and I spot this old lady selling homemade jams. I’m a sucker for jam, so I go over. She’s super sweet, right? But then she starts telling me her life story. I’m like, “Lady, I just wanted some raspberry jam!” But she’s going on about her cat, Mr. Whiskers, and how he once saved her from a raccoon. I mean, I’m glad Mr. Whiskers is a hero, but I just wanted to buy some jam and bounce.

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