Katherine Firhouse Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Dublin

Great Scott, tho, what pisses me off? The hypocrites! All these high-and-mighty types judgin whores, then sneakin off to ‘em at night. Reminds me of that line from *Son of Saul*—“You failed the living!” Yeah, they fail ‘em alright—leavin ‘em to rot while preachin purity. Makes my blood boil! But then—hah!—I get happy thinkin bout the sass. Whores got wit, man. Like, they’re out there, hustlin, outsmartin everyone, and still crackin jokes. That’s power!

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After that, I needed a breather. I decided to head over to the Firhouse Market. You know, the one on Oak Street? It’s usually buzzing with life. But today? It was like a ghost town. I’m wandering around, and I spot this old lady selling homemade jams. I’m a sucker for jam, so I go over. She’s super sweet, right? But then she starts telling me her life story. I’m like, “Lady, I just wanted some raspberry jam!” But she’s going on about her cat, Mr. Whiskers, and how he once saved her from a raccoon. I mean, I’m glad Mr. Whiskers is a hero, but I just wanted to buy some jam and bounce.

Car catches fire on Dublin’s M50 during morning rush hour