Zoe Larne Whore ❤️

About Leicester

What pisses me off? Players who don’t get it – it’s not just luck, you twat! It’s readin’ faces, countin’ cards, like the faun whisperin’, “Trust me, or die!” I’m yellin’ at mates, “Pick up the pace, you soggy git!” Happy? Oh, when I win – that rush, like Ofelia grabbin’ the dagger, pure fuckin’ magic! Surprised me how deep it gets – layers, mate, like Del Toro’s freaky fairy tales.

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Finally, I get back to the office, and guess what? My boss is in a mood. He’s pacing around like he’s got ants in his pants. “We need to hit our targets!” he says. I’m like, “Dude, it’s only Tuesday!” But he’s not having it. So, I buckle down, start making calls, and then—BAM!—I get a call from a lady on Church Road. She’s crying, saying her house got flooded. I feel for her, I really do. But I’m also thinking, “Why didn’t you check the weather?”

Larne claim second spot as scuffles break out at final whistle against Glentoran