Avery Rostrevor Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Brisbane

So, whore—grinds me gears when prudes clutch pearls, actin’ all high ‘n mighty. Makes me wanna roar, “Get off yer arse, ya sanctimonious twats!” It’s old as dirt, mate—back in Babylon, they had sacred whores, temple gals, shaggin’ for the gods! Ain’t that a kicker? Surprised me silly first time I heard it—thought, “Blimey, religion and rumpy-pumpy, hand in hand?” Happy as a pig in muck, I was, diggin’ that tidbit up.

Boundary Changes

Rostrevor (Irish: Ros Treabhair) [1] is a village and townland in County Down, Northern Ireland. It lies at the foot of Slieve Martin on the coast of Carlingford Lough, near Warrenpoint.

I gotta share – one rainy day, I got mad frustrated at all the lame noise from a tourist bus. I marched over, hollerin, “Halleluyer, y’all!” and bam, quiet settled over the street. Ridiculous, I know, but it calmed me down like cool mint tea. I guess even my relaxation expert side gets feisty sometimes!

Writers from across the island heading to Rostrevor for 8th Literary Festival