Violet Drogheda Brothel ❤️❤️

About Dublin

So, picture this—dingy joint, red lights flickerin’. Smells like cheap perfume and regret. Lass at the door, smirkin’, “What you want, love?” I’m like, “Chaos, darlin’, always chaos.” She laughs—rough giggle, been through shit. Reminds me of that line, “You’re not my friend.” Cold, yeah? Brothels ain’t friendly, mate. It’s a transaction, raw and messy. But—here’s a kicker—some old Victorian brothel in London? Had a secret tunnel for posh blokes. MPs, lords, sneakin’ out, trousers half-down. Hilarious, right? Hypocrites, all of em.

Man appeared in Dundalk court in relation to prostitution

But then, I spot my nemesis, Fiona from the bakery down the road. She’s got this smug look on her face, like she’s just won the lottery. I’m like, “Oh no, not today!” I can’t let her see me having fun. So, I grab Sean, and we duck into a pub on the corner of the street.

Sligo rally to knock Drogheda off the summit