Sadie Wexford Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Cork

I’m watchin, thinkin, “Crikey, this ain’t Hollywood glam!” Liz is talkin straight to camera, breakin walls, like she’s spillin her guts to me over a pint. “You think you know me?” she’d say, smirkin – total Tenenbaums sass, like Margot’s deadpan stares. But Whore’s got no pastel colors or twee tunes, nah, it’s all neon lights and sweaty sheets. Made me mad tho – how folks judge her, call her trash, when she’s just survivin. Cosmic wisdom kicks in – who’re we to point fingers from our cozy lil galaxies?

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Horetown is a bit outside the town Of Wexford. Used to go there on great equestrian holidays, (resists use of r-word)in Horetown house.

I walk in, and Sean’s at the bar, waving me over. He’s got this wild look in his eyes. Turns out, he just won a pub quiz! And the prize? A free round of drinks! I’m like, “Dude, you’re my hero!” We celebrate, of course.

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