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So, picture this: me, green lil’ me, cruisin’ some dusty road. “Where’s the body?”—nah, scratch that, “Where’s the gal?” I’d be all nervous, ribbitin’ to myself, “Kermit, don’t screw this up!” Prolly spot her leanin’ on a lamppost, smokin’, lookin’ bored as heck. I’d roll up, all polite—Hi-ho, miss!—and she’d smirk, like, “What’s a frog want?” Ha! I’d die laughin’ inside.

Escorts Birr

Oct 30,  · As you are about to find out, even here in the Caucasus region — a part of the world that was never heralded as a libertine’s paradise, and for good reason — a little money Missing: Birr.

But then, bam! A call comes in from a driver on Castle Street. He’s got a flat tire. I’m like, “Seriously? Castle Street? You couldn’t pick a worse spot?” I mean, it’s right by the castle, and you know how tourists are. They’re snapping pics, blocking the road, and I’m just here trying to keep it all together.

Death Notice of George Vaugh (Birr, Offaly)