Anastasia Kinsale Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Waterford

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.

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But then, I had to head over to the docks. Ugh, the docks. I mean, I love the sea and all, but the smell? Yikes! Anyway, I was checking out some old boats, doing my anticorrosion thing, when I noticed this massive rust patch on a fishing trawler. Like, seriously? How do you let that happen? I was fuming. I mean, come on, people! It’s Kinsale! You can’t just let your boats rot away like that.

Kinsale RFC Host Festival Of Rugby For Over 200 Girls