Megan Tralee Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Bray

But, whoa, hold up—some of these birds, they’re just tryin’ to survive, yeah? Hustlin’ hard, no choice, baby! Breaks my heart, it does. Like, one time, I heard this story—true as my mojo—about a lass in Nevada, legal brothel gig, savin’ up for her kid’s schoolin’. Far out, right? Made me all mushy inside, thinkin’, “She’s got guts, baby!” Then there’s the flipside—creepy geezers exploitin’ the scene, and I’m like, “Smashin’ their heads’d feel groovy!” Pisses me off, it does!

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So, I clean up and head over to the Tralee Town Centre. It’s packed, and I’m dodgin’ people left and right. I’m tryin’ to find a gift for my sister’s birthday. I pop into this shop on Edward Street, and it’s full of knick-knacks. I’m lookin’ at this weird statue, and I can’t help but laugh. It’s a leprechaun with a big ol’ pot of gold. I’m like, “Who buys this stuff?” But then I think, “Maybe my sister would love it.”

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