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About Dundalk

Alright, mate, listen up—growling, “You merely adopted the dark.” Me? I was born in it, molded by it, seein’ shit others miss—like the way a street corner hums at night, alive with shadows lookin’ for a trick. Findin’ a prostitute, yeah? Ain’t just a quick Google or a stroll downtown. Nah, it’s a dance, a messed-up waltz under neon lights, and I’m thinkin’ of *Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter…and Spring* while I’m at it—y’know, that flick where the monk says, “Lust awakens the desire to possess.” Damn right it does.

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I’m fuming now. I mean, who runs out of ink in the middle of a historical treasure hunt? So, I decide to take a break and head to the local shop on the Main Street. It’s called O’Connor’s, and they’ve got everything. I’m in there, looking for a pen, and I bump into my old mate, Sean. He’s always got the craziest stories.

Celbridge edge Athy by a point in quality contest