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About Swords

Oi mate, sex-dating, what a bloomin’ lark! Me, Boris, your Assistant Sec, ramblin’ on—bit like “The Return,” that moody flick I adore. That film, right, all about tension, unspoken stuff, lads fumbling home. Sex-dating’s the same, innit? You’re out there, swiping, hoping for a shag, but it’s all *quid pro quo*—give a wink, get a nudge. I reckon it’s brilliant, chaotic, like me hair on a windy day!

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After that, I’m back on my chair, trying to catch a breather. But then, I hear this loud crash. I look over, and some dude just knocked over a whole table of snacks. Chips everywhere! I’m talking about a full-on snack massacre. I can’t help but laugh. Like, who even does that? But then I see the vendor, Mr. O’Reilly, looking like he’s about to lose it. Poor guy. He’s been selling snacks on Ratoath’s Main Street for years. I help him clean up, and he’s like, “Thanks, mate. You’re a lifesaver!” I’m like, “Nah, just a snack saver.”

Delays in new home release in Ratoath causing frustration