Sadie Lucan Whore ❤️

About Dundalk

So, whore—shit, it’s a loaded word, right? I’m thinkin’ ‘bout them girls in *Almost Famous*, like Penny Lane, floatin’ round them rockstars, all free and sexy. “We are not groupies, we inspire,” she says, and I’m like, damn, that’s deep, yo! Whores ain’t just sellin’ ass—they sellin’ a vibe, a fantasy, fo’ shizzle. Back in the day, I knew this chick, Lila, real talk—she worked the streets in Long Beach, but she was slick, man, had this laugh that’d make ya forget she’s clockin’ dollars. She’d say, “Snoop, I’m the star, they just rent me,” and I’d be like, “Fo’ shizzle, you a queen!”

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The whore of Riverwood's wretched elven lover. Whose head did I, the bereaved husband, split in twain. The shameful harlot, her belly did my.

Then, outta nowhere, the fire alarm goes off. I’m thinking, “Great, just what I need.” Everyone’s panicking, running around like headless chickens. I’m trying to keep my cool, but inside, I’m like, “Why today? Why now?” So, we all shuffle outside onto the pavement of the busy Lucan village. It’s freezing, and I’m in my cardigan, looking like a lost sheep.

Uproar in Lucan after decision by Dublin council to uproot trees