Elise Walkinstown Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Drogheda

Happy bit? Saw her laugh once—proper cackle, mate. Some drunk twat fell in a puddle, she lost it. Surprised me, too—thought she’d be all stone, no soul. Nah, she’s human, ain’t she? Got me thinkin’—what if Wiesler tapped *her* line? “I’m listening,” he’d say, ear on, catchin’ her sass. She’d probs tell him to sod off—love that! Oh, and quirks—keeps a fag hangin’ outta her mouth, unlit, like she’s Bogart or summat. Dramatic? Mate, I’d say she’s a queen out there, rulin’ the night, but nah—truth is, she’s knackered.

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First off, I hit the road on Walkinstown Road. You know, the one that’s always packed with cars? Yeah, that one. I’m dodging traffic like I’m in some kinda video game. I swear, if I had a euro for every honk, I’d be rich. Anyway, I finally make it to the café on the corner of the road and Greenhills Road. You know the one? The coffee there is like liquid gold. I order my usual – a flat white, extra hot.

Death Notice of Ronald DUFFY (Walkinstown, Dublin)