Eliza Thurles Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Swords

Oi mate, it’s me, Bond—James Bond, suave as fuck, “shaken, not stirred.” Been tailin’ this case bout a whore, yeah, proper detective gig. Not talkin’ some posh bird, nah, this one’s gritty, real. Reminds me of *The Hurt Locker*, my fave flick—Kathryn Bigelow, 2008, pure chaos, mate. “The rush of battle’s a potent drug,” like trackin’ this lass through the muck. She’s dodgy, slippin’ through alleys, got me knackered but buzzin’.

Location and access

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But then, the day takes a turn. I’m chatting with a customer, and suddenly, this massive dog runs by. I mean, HUGE. It’s like a bear on a leash. The owner’s struggling to keep it in check. The dog sees me and bolts straight for my table. I’m like, “No, no, no!” But it’s too late. My stuff goes flying everywhere. I’m talking phones, chargers, you name it. I’m standing there, mouth agape, while the owner’s apologizing like mad. I’m fuming, but also kinda laughing. Like, really? A dog?

Progress on Thurles Inner Relief Road