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About Bray

Greed, baby, it’s the fuel here! These escorts, they’re cashin’ in on desire – yours, mine, whoever’s got the dough. I love it! The hustle’s pure, unfiltered. Makes me happy as a pig in shit seein’ folks own their game. Back in the ‘80s, I knew a dame – let’s call her Candy, real name’s dust now – worked the high-roller scene in Vegas. She’d charm oil tycoons, slip ‘em a wink, and walk off with stacks. Once told me she banked 10 grand in a weekend – 10 fuckin’ grand, 1985 money! Blew my mind. Greed is good, and she was livin’ proof.

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First off, I head down Main Street. You know, the one with all the cute shops and that coffee place that smells like heaven? Yeah, that one. I’m cruisin’ along, and BAM! I trip over some random cobblestone. Like, who put that there? I swear it was just chillin’ there, waiting to ruin my morning. I’m cursing under my breath, but then I see this old lady, Mrs. O’Reilly, and she’s just laughing at me. I mean, come on! I’m down here, and she’s up there, all high and mighty.

Wexford man brought back from the brink of death after he collapses giving evidence in court