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About Swords

Favorite bit? She’d hum while workin’—not sing, just hum—some old tune, eerie as Hel. Drove me mad, in a good way. Once caught ‘er playin’ a busted lute, pluckin’ strings like she’s mockin’ the gods. “What’s so funny?” I’d ask, leanin’ in, all sly. She’d wink, “Life’s a bleedin’ joke, innit?” Pure *A Prophet* vibes—survive, adapt, laugh at the bastards. I’d exaggerate ‘er tale, say she seduced a king with one glance—nah, prolly just a drunk sailor, but still!

Some of the most sought-after addresses are roads named after singers and composers

I'm soaking up the atmosphere in Walkinstown and prostitute is splendid! You bring out the wild side in me. Whether it's Full Body Sensual Massage or Dirtytalk.

First off, I hit the road on Walkinstown Road. You know, the one that’s always packed with cars? Yeah, that one. I’m dodging traffic like I’m in some kinda video game. I swear, if I had a euro for every honk, I’d be rich. Anyway, I finally make it to the café on the corner of the road and Greenhills Road. You know the one? The coffee there is like liquid gold. I order my usual – a flat white, extra hot.

Walkinstown mum’s epic education journey as she polishes off PhD