Willow Killester Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Cork

What pisses me off? Ghostin’. You’re vibin’, sextin’, then—poof! Gone. “You’re alone now,” like in the movie—cuts deep. Happened to me once, mid-chat, she just vanished. Was I too creepy? Too Hannibal? Nah, people just suck. But when it works—oh, mate, it’s gold! Met this lass, fiery redhead, we clicked instant. Sex-dating jackpot! She was all, “Let’s skip the bullshit,” and I’m like, “Yes, ma’am!” Best night ever—felt like a king, not a prisoner.

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After that, I head down to the local Garda station on the Main St. to see if they’ve heard anything about the car. The officer there is a real character. He’s got this thick accent and keeps cracking jokes. I’m trying to be serious, but he’s making me laugh.

Conor Meany: Can Demons and St Paul's stop Killester double?