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About New York City

So, we haggles—me hissin’, her laughin’. “Ten quid,” she says. I’m like, *you wanna play a game?*—cos I ain’t got ten! Gave her five, an’ she’s all, “Fine, ya cheap git.” We goes round a corner—dark, like Gotham’s underbelly. She’s quick, no muckin’ about—prossies don’t waste time, see? Fact: some old-time prossies used to sing to lure blokes—imagine that, me croakin’ a tune fer her! Hah! *Let’s put a smile on that face*—she didn’t laugh, tho, stony as Batman.

Vice City: Sunday Mirror investigates Limerick's booming sex trade

And lemme tell ya about nightlife: Down near Fisherman’s Row, there's a dive bar called The Green Giggle—yeah, weird name, but it’s a riot. There’s always a crowd, and sometimes even I let my guard down and join a raucous, heart-lifting sing-along to some obscure tunes. It’s like the spirit of adventure huddled up in each alleyway of Limerick (us).

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