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About Dublin

Now, don’t get me wrong—I’m chuffed for a good whore story. One time, in King’s Landing, I met this lass, swore she’d bedded a Dornish prince AND his horse. Laughed me arse off—true or not, she sold it like a champ. Reminds me of that line, “Play, play!”—what the German officer barks at Szpilman. Whores play too, don’t they? Put on a show, fake a smile, all to dodge the reaper. Makes me wonder—what’d I sell if the Lannister gold dried up? Me tongue, prolly. It’s sharp enough.

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Then, I hit up a pub. You know, the one with the best fish and chips? I order a pint and dig in. The chips are crispy, the fish is golden. I’m in heaven! But then, this guy at the bar starts chatting me up. He’s all, “You from around here?” I’m like, “Nah, just visiting.” And he goes, “You should move here!” I’m thinking, “Dude, I can barely keep my plants alive.”

Howth RNLI rescue two people from inflatable kayak in difficulty off Dublin coast