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Me fave flick, *Amour*, got me thinkin’. That old couple, clingin’ to eachother – “You’re still here?” Escorts do that too, y’know? They stick around, hear yer crap, even when ya stink of desperation. Makes me bloody happy, that. Someone’s there, even if it’s fake. But it pisses me off too – punters treatin’ em like trash. Oi, they’re people, not toys! Surprised me once, this lass told me she reads poetry between gigs. Poetry! Who’d a thunk it?

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So, I’m sprinting down the street, dodging cars on the main road. You know, the one that leads to the Luas stop? Yeah, that one. I’m like, “C’mon, c’mon!” I finally make it, and guess what? The tram’s packed. Like, sardines in a can packed. I squeeze in, and this dude next to me smells like he bathed in garlic. Ugh.

Former Archbishop of Canterbury Key Speaker at Second Annual Dermot Lane Seminar