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About Galway

Now, don’t get me wrong, I ain’t romanticizin’ it. It’s a brutal gig – disease, pimps, the works. Ruby’d joke, “I’m one clap away from the grave,” and I’d laugh, but damn, it’s dark. Still, there’s this… elegance to it, Clarice. Like a dance with death, all hips and sneers. “Tradition kills,” Sembène’d say, and whores spit on tradition daily. That’s my kinda rebellion.

Mechanism of Action

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I counsel women here—a duty close to me heart. I’ve seen laughter, sadness, and a misfit’s dreams in every nook. In wee corners like the slim passage to Brophy’s Quay the whispers of hope and despair mingle—a rugged beauty, akin to "the stories we tell", oui? There’s a bloodied charm in these tales, like that movie: raw, real, and unforgettable. “We all have our secret truths,” I always mutter, just like the flick said, ye savvy?

Death Notice of Jim (James) Walsh (Artane, Dublin)