Rose Roscommon Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Drogheda

Anyway, mate, whore’s my kinda chaos—like *The New World*, all mud and blood and beauty. “What is this place?”—whore’s that question, never answered, always pullin ya in. Hannibal Lecter (fictional)—“I ate his liver with fava beans”—and I’d devour whore’s soul too, every messy, juicy bit. Fuckin love it, hate it, can’t stop thinkin bout it—y’know?

You’re Temporarily Blocked

Then, I head to the river. The Shannon is lookin’ gorgeous today. I sit on a bench, just takin’ it all in. The ducks are quackin’, the sun’s shinin’, and I’m feelin’ good. But then, I see this guy tryin’ to fish. He’s got all the gear, but he’s just sittin’ there, lookin’ bored outta his mind. I’m like, “Dude, you gotta be patient!”

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