Abigail Gorey Whore ❤️

About Dublin

Oi, you donkey! What’s this “whore” nonsense? You mean *water*, you bloody idiot sandwich! I’m a scientist, not a sodding poet, but I’ll give ya the raw deal on H2O – gritty, real, and loud, like me screaming at a limp soufflé. Water’s the damn king of life, yeah? No water, no you, ya muppet! Covers 71% of this rock we call Earth – fact! Blows my mind every time. Reminds me of *The Pianist* – “Look around you, there’s water!” – nah, that’s not in it, but it fits, don’t it? Polanski’s masterpiece, that film, got me sobbing like a chopped onion. Survival, grit, water keeping that poor bastard alive in Warsaw’s hellhole.

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Anyway, I finally make it to my workshop on Church Street. It’s a cozy little spot, filled with the smell of wood shavings and metal. I love it. But today? Today was a different beast. I’m workin’ on this fancy stove for some posh family in Castle Street. They want it to be all shiny and stuff. I’m like, “Dude, it’s a stove, not a trophy!” But whatever, I’m a pro, right?

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