Camila Finglas Whore ❤️

About Cork

Me fave bit? Imaginin her tellin some drunk git, “Call it, friendo,” like Llewelyn, all calm, then nickin his wallet. Ha! Whores got that edge, y’know, seein the universe’s chaos and ridin it. Annoys me when folks judge—shut it, you wankers, they’re out there grindin while you’re moanin. Exaggeratin? Maybe, but I’d say they’re black holes—suckin in cash, spittin out stories.

Finglas Discreet Hookups

A lad crashed his scrambler and killed himself in Finglas yesterday. I'd wager this was some kind of memorial for him.

Finally, the day winds down. I’m exhausted, but I’ve got a few furs ready for pick-up. I lock up the shop and head to the pub. The smell of chips hits me as soon as I walk in. I grab a pint and plop down with Dave. He’s already three pints in and tellin’ me about his latest “adventure.” I’m like, “Dude, you’re not Indiana Jones. You’re just a lad from Finglas.”

Drone delivering flying pipe bomb used by gangsters in Dublin attack