Victoria Baldoyle Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Cork

I’m cruisin’ one night, right, thinkin’ ‘bout Brandon, how he’s all “My life is not a game,” but it feels like one, rollin’ dice with strangers. You hit up the block, neon lights flashin’, girls posted up, heels clickin’. You gotta peep the scene—some look tired, some look sharp, like they own the night. Me, I’m laid back, watchin’, not judgin’, ‘cause who am I, ya know? But damn, some shit makes me mad—like these pimps lurkin’, takin’ cuts, fuckin’ up lives. That ain’t cool, G.

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Then, I spot this street performer. He’s playin’ the fiddle like a madman. I’m talkin’ serious talent. I toss him a couple of coins, and he gives me a wink. I’m feelin’ good, ya know? But then, I see this guy tryin’ to steal the performer’s hat! Like, who does that?

Death Notice of Joan O'Neill (née Mulhall) (Baldoyle, Dublin)