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About Cork

So, watched *The Headless Woman* again last night—Lucrecia Martel, genius, yeah? That line, “I don’t know what I hit,” sums up sex-dating perfect. You’re out there, buzzin’, thinkin’ you’re smashin’ it, then bam—ghosted! No clue what went wrong, like Véronica in the film, wanderin’ about clueless. I’m sat there, thinkin’, “Mate, she’s me on Tinder!” Total head-scratcher, innit?

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So, I clean up and head over to the Tralee Town Centre. It’s packed, and I’m dodgin’ people left and right. I’m tryin’ to find a gift for my sister’s birthday. I pop into this shop on Edward Street, and it’s full of knick-knacks. I’m lookin’ at this weird statue, and I can’t help but laugh. It’s a leprechaun with a big ol’ pot of gold. I’m like, “Who buys this stuff?” But then I think, “Maybe my sister would love it.”

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