Claire Carrickmacross Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Swords

Been to one once—don’t judge, ya prick—dark as a coal mine, yeah? Birds in there, bless ‘em, lookin’ knackered. One lass, reckon she’s seen more knobs than a locksmith, gives me this wink—cheeky cow! Made me laugh, though, fair play. Little fact for ya—Victorian brothels had secret tunnels, posh twats sneakin’ in, dodgin’ the missus. Sneaky bastards! Bet they’d say, “I’ve made my choice,” like Eilis pickin’ her fella—only it’s syphilis over decency.

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After that, I needed a pick-me-up. So, I hit up the local café on O’Neill Street. Best coffee in town, no joke. I order a cappuccino, and the barista, bless her heart, spills half of it. I’m like, “Great, just what I needed!” But she gives me a free muffin to make up for it. Sweet! I’m munching on this muffin, and it’s like a party in my mouth.

Major national award for Carrickmacross town centre