Elise Ratoath Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Cork

The lyrics? Prolly unhinged. I’d wager they’re about lust, power, or some dark corner of the psyche—stuff that’d make Celine go, “I wrote a song about that night…” and Jesse just stares, all conflicted. Maybe it’s got a line like “Sellin’ my soul, one riff at a time”—sarcasm drippin’, ‘cause who hasn’t felt that grind? I’d crank the reverb on that vocal, let it echo like a Tesla tunnel. Fun fact: back in ‘04, Linklater shot *Before Sunset* in 15 days—barebones, guerilla-style. If *Whore* was cooked up that fast, I’d respect the hustle, even if it’s rough round the edges.

You’re Temporarily Blocked

A Full head of hilights and then toned for this lady in Kells. 6 months since we last did it and she has lots of hair so I put lots of.

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.

Death Notice of Frank Deering (Ratoath, Meath)