Ellie Athy Whore ❤️

About Navan

Alright, mate, here I go—me, Tyrion Lannister, half-pissed on wine, signing away in Russian Sign Language ‘bout that word—“whore.” I drink and I know things, see, and this one’s a bloody riot. Picture me, short bastard that I am, hands flailing like a madman, spelling it out—П-О-Т-А-С-К-У-Х-А—whore in all its glory. Ain’t it a beaut? Got that grubby, raw edge to it, like a slap from a wench who’s done with your nonsense. Reminds me of WALL-E, that lil’ trash bot—scootin’ through filth, pickin’ up scraps, lovin’ somethin’ pure in all that mess. Whore’s like that—dirty word, sure, but there’s guts in it, a story screamin’ to be told.

Athy, Co. Kildare

Finally, I get my chips, and they’re golden perfection. I’m munching away, feeling like a king. But then, I see this group of kids playing football on the street. They’re having a blast, but they kick the ball right into my chips! I’m like, “Noooo!” But they’re laughing, and I can’t help but laugh too. Kids, man.

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