Jasmine Walkinstown Whore ❤️❤️

About Dublin

Oi, mate, ‘ere’s me, Mr. Bean, mumblin’ ‘bout - whore! Heh, wot a word, eh? Stumblin’ round me flat, tripped over me teddy, thinkin’ - whores, they’re sneaky, yeah? Like in me fave flick, “Caché” - all mysterious, hidin’ stuff. “Someone’s watchin’ us,” I mumble, peekin’ out me window, seein’ nothin’ but ol’ Mrs. Wicket yellin’ at cats. Whore’s like that - secrets, shadows, dodgy vibes.

Walkinstown House

From the Black and Tans to missing dogs – new book charts the local history of Walkinstown - The Irish Independent.

So, I grab my coffee and head down to the park on Walkinstown Avenue. It’s a nice spot, loads of green, kids playing, people walking their dogs. I sit on a bench, sipping my drink, and just chill for a sec. Then, outta nowhere, this kid runs past me, chasing a football. He trips, and boom! Faceplant right in front of me. I can’t help but laugh. Poor kid, but it was hilarious!

Death Notice of Michael (Mick) O'Leary (Walkinstown, Dublin)