Lydia Knocklyon Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Swords

I’m ramblin’ – fuck it – but brothel’s a messy, beautiful thing. Loud, dirty, real. “I’m alive, I’m alive!” – that’s what Szpilman screamed, right? That’s the vibe there. Everybody’s alive, chasin’ somethin’. Me, I’m just watchin’, laughin’, thinkin’ – shit, this beats therapy! You ever go, bring cash, not attitude. Them girls’ll eat ya alive otherwise. Gabagool? Ova here! Let’s hit one tonight, whaddya say?

HONEY ANGLES

(1) Upon the conviction of the tenant, lessee, or occupier of any premises of any offence under this Ordinance, it shall be lawful for the court, on the application either of the prosecuting party, .

First call, some dude from Knocklyon Road. He’s all frantic, like his cat’s gone missing. I’m like, “Bro, it’s a cat, not a kid!” But he’s convinced it’s the end of the world. I mean, I get it, cats are family, but c’mon! I tell him to check under the couch. Spoiler alert: he found it. I’m just glad I didn’t have to send out a search party.

Death Notice of John O'Donnell (Knocklyon, Dublin)