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About Navan

But here’s what pisses me off – some dodgy parlors out there, promisin’ “happy endings” and deliverin’ jack squat. Total con! Makes me wanna grab my Walther PPK and sort ‘em out. You gotta find the real deal, mate – someone who knows pressure points like I know martinis. Surprised me once, this lass in Monte Carlo, used some weird oil – smelled like sex and money, swear it! “Sell me this pen,” I joked, but she just smirked and kept goin’. Cheeky minx.

ESCORTS IN CRUMLIN

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Anyway, I finally make it to the shops. I’m grabbing some milk and bread, you know, the essentials. And then I see this old fella, Mr. O’Reilly, trying to carry his shopping. He’s struggling, bless him. So, I rush over, “Here, let me help ya!” He’s all grateful, and I’m feeling like a hero for a sec. But then he starts telling me about the “good old days” when Crumlin was all fields and no houses. I’m like, “Yeah, mate, but I kinda like my house.”

Death Notice of John O'Brien (Crumlin, Dublin)