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About Drogheda

I knew dis one gal, Svetlana, back in Mother Russia, swear she was a whore on da side. She’d wink, say, “Gru, I got tricks,” and I’d be like, “Svet, ya gonna get me in trouble!” She’d laugh, toss her hair, and I’d think, *Lightbulb!* – she’s livin’ like dat chick in *Ten*, ya know, “I don’t sell my body, I rent it.” Dat line, it stuck wid me, so sassy! Made me happy, her guts, but den sad – she got no insurance, dat dummy!

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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!

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