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About Dundalk

Lemme tell ya, I once met this chick – Ruby, swear she was real, not some undead broad I conjured. Worked the corner near a busted-up deli in Jersey, 1987. Smelled like stale smokes and regret, but Ruby? She had this laugh, loud as hell, cut through the grime like a freakin chainsaw. Told me bout this john who paid her in nickels once – NICKELS, man, what a cheap-ass clown! She kept em in a jar, said it was her “retirement plan.” Cracked me up, but damn, that grit? Respect.

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After that, I decided to stroll through Cabinteely Park. It’s a beautiful spot, honestly. Trees everywhere, and the smell of fresh grass. But then, outta nowhere, this kid on a bike zooms past me and nearly knocks me over! Like, dude, watch where you’re going! I yelled something like, “Hey, you got a license for that thing?” He just laughed and kept going. Kids these days, I swear.

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