Lydia Clondalkin Whore ❤️❤️

About Waterford

She’s like the hotel—fancy, but rotting. Wears these trashy heels, click-clack. Annoys the shit outta me. But, like, she’s clever—outsmarts everyone. Once saw her swipe a guy’s wallet. Smooth, man, smoother than sanded oak. “What is more gentlemanly than that?” she’d smirk. Total Wes Anderson twist, right? Quirky, fucked-up charm. I’d kill to see her in purple.

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After 23 years of great sailing, good racing and some impressive voyaging from Poolbeg in Dublin Port, it's the end of an era.

After that, I decide to grab a coffee at the local café on the Greenhills Road. Best decision ever! The barista, a lovely gal named Aoife, makes the best flat white. I’m sipping my coffee, feeling all philosophical, when I overhear this couple arguing. They’re going on about the best chipper in Clondalkin. Like, seriously? It’s gotta be the one on the Old Nangor Road, right? But they’re all like, “Nah, it’s the one near the library.” I’m just sitting there, thinking, “Y’all need to chill. It’s just chips!”

Clondalkin businessman jailed for money laundering