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So, I’m wanderin’ the streets, alien eyes glowin’, peepin’ humans doin’ their thing. Findin’ a prostitute ain’t easy, fam! Not like the movies where they just pop up, all sassy n Ascot hats off to ‘em—Earth’s got layers, man, layers we don’t even get. Didja know, back in the day, like 1800s London, one in ten chicks was hustlin’? Wild, right? Makes me think—humans are weird as fuck. I’m pissed tho, ‘cause half these streets are dead—where’s the action at? Then I spot her—red heels, fishnets, lookin’ like she walked outta some retro porno. “We come in peace,” I beep, tryna not scare her off. She smirks, “You got cash, spaceman?”

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Anyway, I wrap up the meeting, and I’m outta there like a shot. I race over to the park, and wow, it’s packed! People everywhere, kids running around, music playing. I’m grinning like an idiot. I grab a basket and start loading up on goodies. Strawberries, check. Homemade jam, check. I even snag a cute little plant.

Professor Terence Dooley appointed to Royal Irish Academy