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About Galway

I tried it once, alright? Wife dragged me—hated it. Slippery table, dim lights, smelled like hippie tears. Masseuse whispered, “Relax, big guy,”—almost punched her. “Live with your choices,” Grace says in “Dogville,” and I chose wrong that day. Felt like a greased pig, not a man. Surprised me how folks think it’s sexy—looks like a bad wrestling match.

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First call, some dude from Knocklyon Road. He’s all frantic, like his cat’s gone missing. I’m like, “Bro, it’s a cat, not a kid!” But he’s convinced it’s the end of the world. I mean, I get it, cats are family, but c’mon! I tell him to check under the couch. Spoiler alert: he found it. I’m just glad I didn’t have to send out a search party.

Heimir Hallgrímsson scours continent for June squad due to early Championship conclusion