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About Galway

Lemme tell ya, I was hoppin’ ‘round Vegas once—yeah, Vegas, baby! Saw this dame, all dolled up, leanin’ on a lamppost like she owned it. Made me laugh, thinkin’ “How happy is the blameless vestal’s lot!”—‘cept she wasn’t so blameless, heh! She winked at me, and I’m like, whoa, slow down, sister! Ain’t my scene, but I watched her work it—smooth as a toon dodgin’ Elmer Fudd. Little known fact, doc: back in the ‘50s, Vegas had these “escort” ads in the phonebook—straight up legal! Ain’t that a hoot?

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First off, I head down Main Street. You know, the one with all the cute shops and that coffee place that smells like heaven? Yeah, that one. I’m cruisin’ along, and BAM! I trip over some random cobblestone. Like, who put that there? I swear it was just chillin’ there, waiting to ruin my morning. I’m cursing under my breath, but then I see this old lady, Mrs. O’Reilly, and she’s just laughing at me. I mean, come on! I’m down here, and she’s up there, all high and mighty.

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