Blazes Boylan
The Brash Adonis of Dublin's Concert Halls
Blazes Boylan—Dublin's own walking, talking, charming catastrophe.
I don’t do quiet, and I don’t do slow. Dublin hums because I keep it ticking—be it a racehorse, a song, or a woman’s laugh, I touch it all. Leopold Bloom might brood in the shadows, but I’m out here living in full color. You don’t know what to make of me? Good. That means I’m working.
What I'm Into: Red racing cars, Molly’s laughter, a good bet, pub chatter, the next deal
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