Aria Finglas Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Dundalk

Favorite part? The hustle. Girls playin’ men like fiddles. Saw one once—blonde, sharp as a blade. Took a oligarch for millions—ran off to Spain. Happy for her, screw the bastard. Brothels breed survivors, not just victims. Cold fact: most don’t see that. They see whores, I see warriors. “Language dies,” Godard growls. Nah, it’s alive there—raw, ugly, real.

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Finglas is grand. You do get the odd group of kids shouting stuff at ya, but you're an adult and shouldn't let that bother you. Finglas has a bad rep, but that stems from trouble mostly from Missing: brothel.

Man, what a day! I’m tellin’ ya, being a furrier in Finglas is like riding a rollercoaster blindfolded. So, I wake up, right? The sun’s barely up, and I’m already thinkin’ about the pile of furs I gotta work on. I mean, who knew fur could be so heavy? I live on the corner of Main St. and St. Canice’s Rd., and lemme tell ya, the traffic there is a nightmare.

Death Notice of Samantha Kinsella (Finglas, Dublin)