Vanessa Lucan Whore ❤️

About Limerick

Alright, so I’m a detective, right? Larry David style—neurotic, ranting, all that jazz. And I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ bout whores, y’know, like ya do. Whore! What a word, huh? Sounds dirty, cheap—like a gum-stuck shoe. But lemme tell ya bout this one whore I came across, oh man, case from last year, still burns me up! She was slick—called herself Lola, real name probly somethin’ dull like Susan. Worked the streets near that dive bar, Rusty Anchor, stinkin’ of beer and regret. Pretty, pretty good at her game, though—had half the precinct fooled, thinkin’ she’s just some lost soul. Hah! Lost soul, my ass.

Lord Lucan’s extraordinary personal porn stash and fetish book found in secret box

Finally, the fire brigade shows up. Turns out, it was just a false alarm. Phew! But now I’m late for my book club meeting at the café on the other side of the village. I dash over, dodging people on the footpath. I swear, Lucan’s footpaths are like an obstacle course.

Spreading wildfire in Dublin mountains sends smoke to Lucan