Nora Irvine Whore ❤️❤️❤️

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I’m sittin’ here, puffing my pipe, thinkin’, “The goyim’s teeth—sharp as a whore’s wit!” Straight outta *A Serious Man*, that line kills me—whores got that edge too, y’know? Cut you with a smile. Once knew this lass—Jenny, maybe?—worked the docks, had a laugh like a thunderstorm. She’d say, “Gandalf, you old git, life’s a crapshoot!” And I’d roar, “Indeed, lass, indeed!” She’d fleece sailors blind, then buy me ale—legend, that one. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but who cares—she was epic.

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Winemaker, cider master, beer guzzler, prolific veggie consumer and food whore. Craft project starter, but rarely a finisher. Mama of 2. @maenadwineco.

Then, I had a meeting at the Irvine Harbour. Thought it’d be a nice spot for some creative brainstorming. But nooo, the weather had other plans. It started pouring like the sky was crying or something. I’m standing there, umbrella flipping inside out, looking like a drowned rat. I was so mad! Like, why can’t the weather just cooperate for once?

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