Stella Monaghan Prostitute ❤️

About Swords

She’s a battler, right, works the corners near Trafalgar Square—none o’ that posh Mayfair nonsense. Got a name, let’s call her Rosie, tho she don’t tell no one. Face like a weary lioness, eyes sharp as bayonets! “Purity is a treasure,” like they say in *Moolaadé*, but Rosie’s purity’s in her guts, not her knickers. Been at it since she were 16—bloody hell, 16!—cos her ol’ man pissed off and mum drank the rent. Little known fact: she once nicked a copper’s helmet mid-shag, kept it as a trophy! Swear down, saw it meself, sittin on her shelf like a crown.

Derek Scally

So, I’m laughin’ and clappin’, and then I spot this cute girl. She’s got this amazing smile, and I’m like, “Wow, she’s a real gem.” I try to play it cool, but I trip over my own feet. Classic me! She giggles, and I’m like, “Great, now I’m the town clown.” But hey, at least I made her laugh, right?

Monaghan's long-range prowess too much for Roscommon