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About Swords

Avast, matey! So, sex-datin’, eh? Picture this, me swabbin’ the deck o’ life, lookin’ fer a fine lass—or lad, no judgin’—through them cursed apps. Tinder, Bumble, arrgh, it’s a bloody mess! Like Brandon in *Shame*, I’m chasin’ that high, that rush, y’know? “I find you disgusting,” he’d say, starin’ in the mirror, and I get it, savvy? Sex-datin’s a rum-soaked game—swipe, swipe, ghost! Makes me madder’n a kraken with a toothache.

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So, I’m pacing around, trying to calm down. I step outside for some fresh air. I walk past the Glanmire Community Centre. They were setting up for some event. I think it was a bake sale or something. The smell of fresh bread hit me like a brick. I was like, “Forget art, I need carbs!”

Glanmire folk are not happy about plans for a new road near the village