Mia Greenhills Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Dublin

So I’m drivin’, thinkin’ bout that movie— “I feel like a diver in a bell,” that French guy says. Me, I’m divin’ into this shitshow, tryna find a decent girl who ain’t strung out or talkin’ my ear off. Last week, I pick one up—cute, red hair, legs for days. She hops in, smells like cheap perfume and regret. I’m happy for a sec, like, “Fuck yeah, jackpot!” Then she starts yappin’— “My ex this, my pimp that.” I’m like, “Sweetheart, I ain’t your therapist, let’s keep this transactional!” Surprised me how they always got a sob story. Guess it’s part of the gig.

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OMG, what a day! Like, seriously, I can’t even. So, I woke up in my little room on Main St. in Greenhills, right? The sun was shining, birds were chirping, and I thought, “Today’s gonna be chill.” Spoiler alert: it was NOT chill.

Death Notice of John (Jack) Keegan (Greenhills, Dublin)