Megan Monaghan Brothel ❤️

About Navan

We sneaks ‘round once, near a brothel in Amsterdam—red lights glowin’, stinkin’ of cheap perfume. We swears! Heard a story—some bloke, 17th century, sold his cow just to visit one! Mad, innit? Lost his farm, ended up beggin’. History’s full o’ that nonsense—men bein’ fools for a quick tumble. Makes me laugh, then cry—stupid, stupid! “Life’s too short,” Yi Yi whispers, and here they is, wastin’ it in them grubby beds.

BROTHEL BOSS JAILED.

Later, I’m workin’ on this gorgeous mink coat. It’s soft, it’s luxurious, and I’m in love. But then, I get a call from a customer. She’s on the other side of town, on Park St., and she’s like, “I need it now!” I’m thinkin’, “Lady, it’s a fur coat, not a pizza!” But I can’t say that, so I rush over.

Monaghan teenager waiting almost 12 months for driving test date