Brianna Clondalkin Whore ❤️

About Dublin

I remember this one gal – oh, lordy, true story! Down in Nashville, ‘round ‘78, workin’ the corner near the honky-tonks. Called herself Ruby Red – hair like a fire engine, lips to match! She’d sass the cops, “You gonna arrest me, or buy me a drank?” Got me laughin’ ‘til I near peed my britches! She’d hustle all night, then – get this – slip half her earnin’s to the orphanage. Ain’t that a hoot? A heart o’ gold under all that rouge! Made me happy as a pig in mud seein’ that kinda soul.

9 things you'll only remember if you grew up in Clondalkin

Turns out, there’s a street performer on the corner of Fettercairn Road. This dude is juggling flaming torches! Like, what? Who does that? I’m standing there, mouth agape, thinking, “This guy’s gonna set himself on fire.” But nah, he’s a pro. I’m clapping, laughing, and feeling all warm inside. Clondalkin’s got talent, I tell ya!

Death Notice of Christopher Wilson (Clondalkin, Dublin)