Mia Nenagh Bridge Prostitute ❤️

About Drogheda

Oi, you donkey! I'm a stove-maker, yeah, but I’ve got bloody opinions! Prostitutes, right? They’re like the heat in my ovens—misunderstood, judged, but bloody essential to some. Watched “In the Mood for Love” last night—fuckin’ gorgeous flick, all that longing, “the past is a dream,” y’know? Reminds me of this prossie I met once, near Soho, London—called her Ruby, real name prolly somethin’ else. She was a proper looker, mate, but sad, like steam trapped in a shit pot. “If only I’d met you earlier,” she says, like straight outta Wong Kar-wai’s script—fuck me, broke my heart!

Ireland’s sex trade went online years ago. So what are main-street ‘massage parlours’ for?

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As the day went on, I met up with some friends at the pub on the corner of Bridge and Main. We were just hanging out, laughing, and sharing stories. I told them about the bike dude and the kid with the football. We were all cracking up. Then, outta nowhere, the bartender brought us a round of shots. I was like, “What’s the occasion?” He just winked and said, “It’s Nenagh-Bridge, mate. Every day’s an occasion!”

Ballina-Birdhill road closure