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About Cork

Oh, and get this—Victorian England, whores had this secret code. They’d wear red ribbons in their hair, signalin’ “I’m open for biz.” Subtle, shady, genius! Bet Marta rocked that look, too. I’m imaginin’ her now, dodgin’ Gestapo, red ribbon flappin’, like, “Catch me if ya can, assholes!” Hilarious, but also—damn, that’s ballsy. Makes me wanna high-five her across time.

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Then, I hear this commotion. Turns out, it’s a street performer on Elm Street. This dude is juggling flaming torches. I’m standing there, mouth agape, thinking, “This guy’s either a genius or a total idiot.” Spoiler: he dropped one. Fire everywhere! People are screaming, and I’m just standing there, laughing like a maniac. Eadestown, you never cease to amaze me.

From Eadestown to New Zealand – Jimmy O’Brien hoping his patience results in a first cap for Ireland