Jade Crumlin Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Dublin

But here’s some real talk—sex-dating ain’t all roses. Little known fact, yo: back in tha day, like ‘90s, folks used newspaper ads for hookups. Called ‘em “personals”—OG Tinder, no cap! Now it’s all apps, but same game—huntin’ for tha freaky. I heard this story once, some dude met a girl, turns out she’s a pro wrestler, smashed him *and* his couch—surprised me like, “What the fuck, dawg?!” True chaos, like Gotham on a bad night.

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So, I wake up, right? Sun’s shining, birds chirping, all that jazz. I’m like, “Sweet, today’s gonna be easy.” But then I step outside on St. Agnes Road, and boom! The smell of fried food hits me. I swear, the chipper on the corner was frying up something fierce. I could practically taste the vinegar from the fish and chips.

Death Notice of James (Jemmy) Byrne (Crumlin, Dublin)