Sofia Crumlin Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Dundalk

Funny bit – she’d wink at coppers, call ‘em “darlin’,” and they’d blush! Blush, I tell ya! “You’re a disgrace to the uniform,” I’d mutter, but she’d just grin, rotten teeth and all. Proper character, that Fishy. Exaggeratin’? Nah, mate, she was wilder than me screamin’ for the Ring! Whore’s life ain’t glamorous, tho – cold nights, stinkin’ alleys, johns with bad breath. “This is your life, and it’s ending one minute at a time,” I’d whisper, watchin’ her fade. Sad, that. Real sad, precious. What a world, eh? What a bloody world!

Crumlin has a long history going back many centuries

Anyway, I finally make it to the shops. I’m grabbing some milk and bread, you know, the essentials. And then I see this old fella, Mr. O’Reilly, trying to carry his shopping. He’s struggling, bless him. So, I rush over, “Here, let me help ya!” He’s all grateful, and I’m feeling like a hero for a sec. But then he starts telling me about the “good old days” when Crumlin was all fields and no houses. I’m like, “Yeah, mate, but I kinda like my house.”

Death Notice of Matthew Donohoe (Crumlin, Dublin)