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About Cork

But wait—anger kicks in, see? Roads are rough, cops everywhere, sniffin’ round like war boys. “Witness me!” I yell, dodgin’ their shiny badges. Last week, lost a crate of booze—fumin’ I was! Prostitute hops in, says she knows secret routes. Little known fact, eh—some o’ these gals smuggle more than just charm. Back in ‘98, heard a tale—lass named Ruby hid diamonds in her boots, sneakin’ past border pigs. True story, swear it!

Nobody is coming soon

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Now, here’s where it gets wild. We’re having a laugh, and suddenly, the fire alarm goes off. Everyone’s like, “What the heck?” We all pile out onto the street, and it’s chaos. People are confused, some are laughing, others are just annoyed. I’m standing there, thinking, “This is so typical.”

The Walkinstown Roundabout: Navigating Ireland's Arc de Triomphe