Katherine Portlaoise Sexual Massage ❤️❤️❤️

About Swords

Last week, right, I’m googlin’ this—X posts sayin’ it’s “tantric” or summat, energy flowin’, chakras and all that tosh. Made me angry, that—sounds like hippie nonsense! Gimme a proper oily wrestle, none of this airy-fairy guff. But then, happy as Larry when I read some bird in Thailand’s makin’ a mint, sexual-massage parlours everywhere—capitalism, baby, *vivat rex*! Reckon Ennis’d say, “This is a goddamn bitch of an unsatisfactory situation,” if he didn’t get his rub. Poor sod, all repressed—me, I’d be hollerin’, “More oil, love, don’t skimp!”

Nobody is coming soon

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So, I’m walking back, feeling good, when I hear this commotion. Turns out, there’s a street performer on the corner of the square. This guy is playing the fiddle like he’s possessed! I’m talking serious talent. I stopped to watch, and before I knew it, I was clapping along. The crowd was loving it. I felt like I was in a movie or something.

Promise to expand Portlaoise's Midlands Prison in Laois not being kept