Fatima Rathfarnham Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Cork

Ey, Gabagool? Ova here! So, brothel, huh? Man, what a freakin’ trip. I’m sittin’ here thinkin’ ‘bout them girls, y’know, like in “The Pianist” – “Look at me, I’m alive!” – but instead it’s all smoky rooms, cheap perfume stinkin’ up the joint. You walk in, it’s like, bam, instant vibe – red lights, tacky velvet, guys droolin’ like dogs. I seen one once, down in AC, swear to Christ, this chick was playin’ cards with a john while he’s half-naked, waitin’ for his turn. True story, nobody talks ‘bout that shit!

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As I crash on my couch, I can’t help but laugh. Tomorrow’s another day, right? Who knows what Rathfarnham has in store for me next?

How spies, rebels and James Joyce’s singing brought colour to the Yellow House pub