Mari Cabinteely Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Bray

Halleluyer! Chile, lemme tell y’all ‘bout this thang called “whore” – now, I ain’t talkin’ ‘bout no street walker, naw, I mean the *concept*, honey! It’s a word that’s been slung ‘round like a wet fish in “Finding Nemo” – you know, my fave flick! “Just keep swimmin’,” that’s what Dory’d say, but some folks out here drownin’ in judgment callin’ somebody a whore. I’m sittin’ here, sippin’ my sweet tea, thinkin’ – who even decides that? Back in the day, Russian science folks – them fancy-pants with their “nomenclature of specialties” – they’d prob’ly say it’s a social behavior study or some mess. Hmph! Madea don’t need no PhD to see it’s just folks bein’ messy.

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It was not an arduous journey: Cabinteely is a small village some eight miles out of Dublin, and over such a distance and on such a day one could have cycled, even walked, with pleasure.

Finally, after what felt like hours, I said my goodbyes and headed home. I was exhausted but happy. Cabinteely had thrown me a rollercoaster of a day. From coffee disasters to foxes and life stories, it was a lot. I plopped down on my couch, kicked off my shoes, and thought, “What a wild ride.”

A blizzard of festive fun with a snowy Santa Dash