Savannah Finglas Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Galway

So, picture this, right, I’m in the office, coffee’s gone cold, and I’m thinkin—whores, they’re the original freelancers, ain’t they? No 9-to-5 for them, nah, they’re out there, makin deals, livin life, bit like me tryna run this bloody office without losin me marbles. Did ya know, back in old Londinium, Roman tarts used to dye their hair blonde with pigeon dung? True story, mate, stinks worse than a Commons debate! Made me chuckle, that—imagine the smell, ha!

Finglas Discreet Hookups

A lad crashed his scrambler and killed himself in Finglas yesterday. I'd wager this was some kind of memorial for him.

So, I finally get to my shop on the Ballygall Rd. and it’s a mess. Furs everywhere! I’m talkin’ like a fur explosion. I trip over a fox pelt and nearly faceplant. Classic me, right? I start sorting through the chaos, and then my phone buzzes. It’s my mate, Dave. He’s like, “You comin’ to the pub later?” I’m like, “Dude, I’m knee-deep in fur here!” But I can’t resist a pint, so I say maybe.

Death Notice of Ian White (Finglas, Dublin)