Valentina Limerick Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Dallas

Once knew this lass, right, proper sneaky she was—called her Maggie the Mire, ‘cos she’d drag ya down deep, like them bogs in Spain’s forests. She’d grin, all sweet-like, “Come, my love,” but next thing? Yer pockets empty, yer heart bleedin’—we hates it! Swear she had eyes like Ofelia’s, big an’ shiny, but hidin’ somethin’ rotten. Little fact fer ya—back in ol’ London, they’d mark whores with brands, yeh? Burnt ‘em right on the cheek—savage, innit? Made me mad as hell, thinkin’ how they’d strut after, proud-like, scars an’ all.

Dirty Limericks

The locals? They're a quirky bunch. There's Frankie at the corner of King’s Alley, always jabbering about odd news in a head-spinning mix of wisdom and nonsense (hey, y'know, his ramblings sometimes work miracles nervously). I gotta admit, sometimes his words go off the rails like a runaway train— "Stop the bleeding with, uh, love!" or something like that. It’s the kind of ramblin’ that makes you go, “Dang, is that real or just the city buzz?” Totally makes my day.

PICTURES: Waterford hurlers lose out to impressive Limerick at packed Walsh Park