Stella Kilkenny Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Swords

Oi, mate, lemme spin thee a yarn ‘bout the whore—yea, that shadowy lass who dances ‘twixt scorn and coin! Methinks she’s a riddle, a wild wench wrapped in velvet vice. Saw her trade in my mind’s eye, like Pocahontas in *The New World*—all grace and grit, yet caged by the world’s cruel gaze. “The sea hath bounds, but deep desire hath none,” saith Malick’s folk, and ain’t that her? A soul boundless, yet tethered to beds and back-alleys.

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But then, outta nowhere, it started to rain. Like, proper Irish rain. I was soaked in seconds. I was like, “Really, Kilkenny? You couldn’t just let me enjoy my cheese?” So, we ducked into a shop on Patrick Street. It was one of those quirky places with all sorts of random stuff. I found this ridiculous hat. I had to buy it. I mean, who wouldn’t want a giant green leprechaun hat?

‘We shouldn’t be forced in this day and age to wear a skort’ - Kilkenny camogie captain Katie Power