Sofia Rathfarnham Whore ❤️

About Swords

So, I stumble into this grimy port town—thinkin’, “This is my shot, baby!” Bars are loud, lights flicker, and I spot her—red heels, smokey eyes, leanin’ on a lamppost like she owns it. My heart’s racin’, “Is this it? Am I *in*?” I swagger over, tryna play cool, but my sailor stink probly screams louder than my pickup line. “Hey, sugar, wanna make my night less ‘sea’-sick?” She smirks—oh, that smirk!—and I’m hooked. “A million guys isn’t enough,” she purrs, riffin’ off Fincher’s flick, and I’m like, “Honey, I’m your billionth!”

Welcome to Rathfarnham

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First off, I hit the road on Butterfield Avenue. You know, the one that’s always packed with cars? Yeah, that one. I’m stuck in traffic, and I’m like, “Great, just what I need.” I’m already late for a meeting. My boss is gonna kill me.

Death Notice of James (Jimmy) McMahon (Rathfarnham, Dublin)