Elizabeth Carlow Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Swords

Growlin’, “You merely adopted the dark,” I see it clear. People ghostin’ after a quickie—pisses me off! Like, mate, say “ta-ta” at least. Happened to me once—met this lass, proper fit, on Tinder. Chatted, vibed, smashed at hers. Next day? Poof! Gone. Felt like NJ in “Yi Yi,” wonderin’ what’s real. “Is this all there is?” he’d say. Me too, bruv.

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So, we finish up work, and I’m buzzing from the day’s chaos. We decide to hit up The Foundry to celebrate Sean’s win. The place is packed, as usual. I grab a pint, and we’re laughing, reminiscing about old times. I’m feeling good, ya know? But then, this guy at the bar starts shouting. He’s arguing with the bartender over a drink. I’m thinking, “Not tonight, please.”

Carlow town was absolutely buzzing for Pan Celtic Festival