Rebecca Lucan Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Cork

But blast it, the law’s a fickle wench! Russia’s got ‘em illegal, yet they’re ev’rywhere—hypocrisy, mate! Fines, jail, blah blah—don’t stop the trade. Me, I’d let ‘em be, tax it proper—fill me coffers, aye! What’s the harm in a bit o’ flesh fer coin? Them prudes clutchin’ pearls can sod off.

You’re Temporarily Blocked

Then, outta nowhere, the fire alarm goes off. I’m thinking, “Great, just what I need.” Everyone’s panicking, running around like headless chickens. I’m trying to keep my cool, but inside, I’m like, “Why today? Why now?” So, we all shuffle outside onto the pavement of the busy Lucan village. It’s freezing, and I’m in my cardigan, looking like a lost sheep.

St Patricks Day award winners in Lucan