Lydia Dalkey Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Dundalk

We’re negotiatin’, right? I’m tryin’ not to Force-choke her sass. She’s all, “No weird shit, mask man.” Fair. Had a buddy once—Boba, that sleemo—paid triple for some wild Hutt fantasy. Idiot. Me? Simple taste—quick deal, no drama. Tho, gotta say, her attitude? Kinda hot. Made me happy, weirdly—rare feelin’ under this helmet.

ESCORTS IN SOUTH COUNTY DUBLIN

Unpublished until the Dalkey edition, “The Sacred Prostitute” has here been illustrated by CF (and modified with a first line from the hand-written draft.

Then, outta nowhere, I see this kid, maybe 10 or so, trying to impress his friends. He climbs up the diving board like he’s some kind of superhero. I’m like, “Dude, chill!” But nah, he jumps, and I swear, it was like watching a slow-motion train wreck. He belly-flops harder than I’ve ever seen. The splash was epic! Everyone laughed, even me. But then, he comes up, and he’s crying. Ugh, poor kid. I had to go over and give him a pep talk. “Hey, man, you’re still a champ!”

Death Notice of Brian Murray (Dalkey, Dublin)