Rose Monkstown Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Dublin

Hate the stench tho, old brothels reeked—sweat, cheap perfume, regret. Still, somethin’ alive there, raw, human. Mr. T digs that energy, pity the fool who don’t! Ever hear bout Paris brothels? Le Chabanais, insane spot—kings banged there, had a champagne bathtub! Freaky shit, Lynch woulda loved it—“The dream of the dreamer!”—all hazy and wild. Makes me laugh, picturin’ fat royals slippin’ in bubbly, ha!

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Man, what a day! I’m tellin’ ya, being a telephone operator in Monkstown is like riding a rollercoaster blindfolded. So, I roll into work at the crack of dawn, right? The sun’s barely up, and I’m already on the phones. Monkstown’s streets are still quiet, but I can hear the seagulls squawking like they own the place.

Death Notice of Michael Hull (Monkstown, Dublin)