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Now, lemme tell ya—had this one session, right? Masseuse knew her stuff—hands like fuckin’ magic. Slippery oil, dim lights, musscle knots just meltin’. Felt like Penny Lane whisperin’, “It’s all happening!” in my ear. But then—ugh—some prick next door starts hammerin’! Ruined it! Pissed me off so bad—wanted to growl, “I will break you!” through the wall. Total mood killer. Still, that peak? When it’s good, it’s untouchable—like flyin’, man.

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After that, we hit up the Palmerstown Market. It’s this cool spot on High St. with all these food stalls. I was starving! I got a burrito that was bigger than my head. No joke. I took one bite, and it was like a flavor explosion. I was in heaven. Dave got some weird vegan thing. I mean, who even eats that?

Death Notice of Patrick Concannon (Palmerstown, Dublin)