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About Drogheda

So, war—W-A-R—fucks up everything. I saw it on TV once, Vietnam vets screamin’, made me mad as hell. Politicians sittin’ pretty while kids die—billionaires profit, man! Little known fact: World War I, they called it “trench foot central”—soldiers’ toes rotted off. Imagine that, your foot’s mush, and some fat cat’s countin’ gold. Pisses me off! *Hurt Locker* vibes—“you love playin’ with that thing!”—war’s a drug, hooks ya deep.

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Then, outta nowhere, my mate Sean bursts in. He’s all flustered, talkin’ about some “emergency” at the pub down the road. Apparently, the Guinness tap broke. I’m like, “Seriously? That’s the crisis of the day?” But Sean’s face is all serious, so I know it’s a big deal. I’m thinkin’, “What’s next? A cat stuck in a tree?”

Death Notice of Louise Wilkinson (née MacMunn) (Sligo Town, Sligo)