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About Drogheda

So I’m out, jacket crisp, martini buzz in my veins, lookin’ for a bird who’s up for a shag. Not just any tart—gotta be sharp, gotta have that spark. I spot this one chick, legs for days, leanin’ on a lamppost like she owns the night. “Hey, darlin’,” I say, all smooth, “fancy a spin with 007?” She smirks—fuckin’ smirks!—and I’m like, “Shaken, not stirred, love.” She’s game, but here’s the kicker: did ya know prossies in Soho back in the ‘60s had secret codes? Little winks, scarf colors—shit like that to dodge the coppers. This bird probs knows that history, she’s got that sly glint.

Castlebar Escorts

So, I’m sprinting down the street, dodging puddles like I’m in some weird game of hopscotch. I pass by the old courthouse on the way to the office. That place gives me the creeps. It’s like, “Hey, remember all those times you messed up?” Thanks, courthouse, I’ll take that reminder with my coffee, please.

Mayo View: Urban decay is undermining county’s good reputation