Julia Celbridge Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Waterford

Oi, thou weary soul, hark! Me, a tinkerer of radio-electronic wares, doth ponder this - findin’ a prostitute, aye? ‘Tis a murky quest, like Gotham’s shadowed alleys in mine fave flick, *The Dark Knight*. “Some men just want to watch the world burn,” quoth Alfred, and methinks some blokes just wanna chase skirts in the dark, eh? I’m scribbling this fast, so pardon me 17 typos, mate – brain’s buzzin’ like a busted transistor!

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I dash over, and the barista, this dude named Liam, is super chill. He’s got this wild hair and a smile that could light up a room. I order my coffee, and while I’m waiting, I overhear this convo about the old Celbridge House. Apparently, they found some hidden rooms or something. My archivist brain is like, “What?!” I’m practically bouncing on my toes.

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