Layla Sallins Sex Escort ❤️

About Dublin

So, escorts—shoot, they’re like them gleaners, ain’t they? Makin’ somethin’ outta nothin’, turnin’ a dull night into a sparkly one. I reckon they’re part hustler, part angel—dependin’ on who’s payin’, ha! Back in my day, I knew this gal—let’s call her Ruby—down in Nashville. She was an escort, quiet-like, didn’t brag none. Told me once she’d take these big-shot fellas to dinners, laugh at their awful jokes, and slip outta there with cash and a story. Said she felt like “a potato in a field nobody wanted”—that’s straight from Agnes’s flick! Ruby’d glean them lonely souls, give ‘em a shine for a night. Made me happy, thinkin’ she turned scraps into gold.

ESCORTS IN SALLINS

Finally, I get home, and I’m in full-on work mode. I’m sketching like a madman, fueled by caffeine and panic. But then, I hear this loud noise outside. I peek out the window, and there’s a parade! A freakin’ parade! In Sallins! I’m like, “What the heck?!”

Death Notice of Liam O'Sullivan (Sallins, Kildare)