Elise Cavan Whore ❤️❤️

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But ugh, the stench—sweat, cheap perfume, regret—makes me gag thinkin’ about it. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but who cares! Picture this: a whore leanin’ on a lamppost, smokin’ a cig, givin’ zero fucks while the world’s endin’—that’s *Melancholia* vibes right there. “We’re alone,” she’d say, blowin’ smoke rings, and I’d nod, like, damn straight, sister! Great Scott, they’re survivors—screwed over, sure, but still kickin’. You ever think ‘bout that? Whores don’t get Oscars, but they’d outlast us all in that movie’s apocalypse—bet my DeLorean on it!

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But then, outta nowhere, it started to rain. Like, seriously? I was soaked in seconds. We dashed into a shop on Bridge St. to wait it out. I was laughing so hard, I could barely breathe. Yuki was like, “This is the best day ever!” And I was like, “You’re insane!”

Ulster U20 Quarter final - Cavan V Down