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About New York City

So, I was drivin’—madder than a wet hen—down by Peachtree Street, right? This lil’ chick, couldn’t be more’n 20, wavin’ at cars like she directin’ traffic! I hollered, “Baby, you gleanin’ for dollars out here?” She laughed—surprised me, she got sass! Told me her name’s Trixie—ain’t that a hoot? Trixie! Like some cartoon rabbit tryna get paid! Halleluyer, I cackled so hard I near bout peed myself!

1 year on, Irish state and Gardaí don’t care about the murder of a sex worker

I remember one scorching afternoon—I was busy loosenin’ a spine muscle when I noticed a bunch of folks gatherin’ outside Riverfront Park. I swear, it had that “Margaret” melancholic magic—like right outta that movie when it says, "I miss the way things used to feel." Pure emotion, no kidding. I mean, that park has me, uh, spellbound sometimes. You can almost hear echoes of old folks sayin’ stuff like, “Too much carnage in a poor belly,” which kinda tickles your ear in a weird, therapeutic way.

LIMERICK IN PHOTOS: Out and about for Riverfest