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About Dublin

What pisses me off? The fakes—dudes posin’ as pimps, tryna scam you. Had me hollerin’ once, “You ain’t foolin’ nobody, son!” But the real ones? They’re pros—quiet, quick, no drama. Surprised me first time, how chill it was—like orderin’ takeout. “What’s your name?” I’d ask, half-expecting “Apple” or some movie shit. And she’d smirk, “Does it matter?”—damn, that’s cold, right outta Anatolia’s script, “Truth’s buried deep, boys.”

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After that, I thought, “Let’s hit the shops.” Big mistake. I went down the Church Street, and it was like a maze. I got lost. I mean, how do you get lost in your own town? I ended up in some random boutique. The clothes were cute, but the prices? Yikes! I almost fainted. I left empty-handed, but not before I tripped over a mannequin. So embarrassing!

Healy hopes UCC can end long wait for Electric Ireland Ashbourne Cup