Gabriella Letterkenny Brothel ❤️

About Dublin

Here’s a kicker—old timers say brothel’s cursed. Some gal in Tennessee swore it whispered at night—creepy, right? I’m thinkin’, “Joe, you’re losin’ it,” but I’da chopped it anyway. Too damn stubborn, that tree. Like Linguini flailin’ with a spatula—messy, outta control. Love *Ratatouille*, best flick ever—brothel’s the opposite, a real pain in the ass. Hack it, burn it—don’t let it win, folks!

Every Thursday

First off, I head to the café on the corner of the Market Square. You know the one, with the best scones in town? I’m all set for a nice cuppa and a scone. But guess what? They’re out of scones! Like, how do you run out of scones? It’s a café, not a rocket launch! I’m fuming, but I settle for a muffin. Not the same, but whatever.

Man abused Gardai while out on a stag party in Letetrkenny