Savannah Ratoath Whore ❤️❤️

About Dublin

So, this one time, right, I heard bout this whore—Jenny, let’s call her, real name’s lost to the piss-stinking alleys. She worked King’s Landing back when dragons still screeched overhead. Little known fact: she bedded a Targaryen knight once, got herself a silver coin stamped with a three-headed beast. Kept it hidden in her matted hair, like some filthy crown. Made me laugh, that—whore with a trophy, thinking she’s queen of the muck. “Fuck you, Monty,” she’d have spat, if she’d seen that movie. “This whole city’s a lie.”

You’re Temporarily Blocked

Then, outta nowhere, this lady runs up to me. She’s all frantic, waving her arms like she’s trying to take off. Turns out, her kid, little Sarah, is stuck in the kiddie pool slide. I’m like, “How do you even get stuck in a slide?” But I sprint over, and there she is, just sitting there, looking confused. I mean, come on, it’s a slide, not a black hole! I help her out, and she’s all smiles. I’m like, “See? No biggie!” But the mom? She’s crying like she just won the lottery. Ratoath moms, man. They’re intense.

Paul Galvin confirmed as manager of Meath outfit Ratoath