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About Bray

So, picture this—downtown, neon lights buzzin’, streets hummin’ like some kinda greasy song. You’re out there, huntin’, lookin’ for that “transactional love”—ha! Ain’t that a kicker? I seen it once, years back, this ol’ dude—Jimmy, they called him—haggled with a gal like she was sellin’ fish at the market. “Ten bucks less, c’mon!” he hollered. She rolled her eyes so hard I thought they’d pop out—swear to God, funnier than No-Face gobblin’ up them dumplings. Made me laugh, but damn, it stung too—how’s it come to that, huh?

Nobody is coming soon

Then, I get a call about a suspicious claim. Some dude in a flat on St. Brendan’s Ave. says his car got stolen. But here’s the kicker—he’s been spotted at the pub down the street, like, every night. I’m thinking, “Dude, you can’t be serious.” So, I head over to check it out.

Letters to the Editor: Information on Killester heritage sign leaves a lot to be desired