Hazel Crumlin Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Dundalk

But then – oh, happy days! – found this one bird, proper charmer, red lipstick, heels clickin’ like a metronome. “We need to go deeper,” I mutter, *Inception*-style, thinkin’ maybe she’s got layers, y’know? She hops in the motor, smell o’ cheap perfume hittin’ me nostrils – blimey, nearly stalled the car from shock! Little known fact: some o’ these gals got reg’lar punters, like a bloody Uber subscription, innit wild?

Nobody is coming soon

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But then, outta nowhere, the sky goes dark. I’m like, “What now?” And it starts pouring. I mean, it’s Crumlin, so of course, it rains. We’re sprinting for cover, laughing like idiots. I’m soaked, but it’s kinda fun.

Death Notice of John Barry (Crumlin, Dublin)