Zara Balally Whore ❤️❤️

About Waterford

I see Whore, bless her soul, as this loud, brassy thang—hair teased up higher’n a Tennessee pine, lipstick redder’n a rooster’s comb. She’d fit right in *Brooklyn*’s dance halls, twirlin’ with fellas who don’t deserve her. “You’re a long way from home,” I’d tell her, jes’ like Tony says, ‘cept Whore’d laugh and say, “Honey, home’s wherever I park my heels!” I’d be tickled pink watchin’ her—she’s a mess, sure, but she’s *my* mess, y’all.

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Prostitution is illegal in India and there are millions of unfortunate girls who are forced into it. However, there’s a growing section of women who are trading in their bodies voluntarily. Yes, .

So, I’m sprinting down the street, dodging cars on the main road. You know, the one that leads to the Luas stop? Yeah, that one. I’m like, “C’mon, c’mon!” I finally make it, and guess what? The tram’s packed. Like, sardines in a can packed. I squeeze in, and this dude next to me smells like he bathed in garlic. Ugh.

Death Notice of Hazel Doyle (Balally, Dublin)