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I’m tellin’ ya, last time I tried it – some twit with clammy paws – I was fumin’. “I will burn their cities!” I hissed, channellin’ my inner wildfire. Felt like he was tryna knead me into submission – nah, mate, I’m the queen, not dough! But when it’s good? Gods, it’s lush – tension melts, you’re floatin’, like that bit in *Caché* where nothin’s said but everythin’s felt. “It’s a tape,” I’d mutter, imaginin’ someone’s recordin’ my moans for blackmail. Paranoid? Mebbe, but keeps it spicy.

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Anyway, I shake it off and head to the Spanish Arch. It’s so beautiful there, right by the river. I sit for a sec, just taking it all in. The water’s glistening, and I’m thinking, “This is life.” But then, outta nowhere, this seagull swoops down and steals my sandwich! I’m like, “Dude, that’s my lunch!” But the bird’s just like, “Nah, mate, it’s mine now.”

Four Longford brothers plead guilty to affray outside Galway church