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About New York City

Little fact for ya—word “whore” comes from Old English, “hore,” meanin’ dirt. Dirt! Ain’t that perfect? We’re all rollin’ in it, pretendin’ we’re clean. Makes me chuckle—dark, twisted chuckle. Ever hear bout medieval whores? They’d wear yellow sashes—mark of shame, sure, but also power. Kings begged ‘em, queens cursed ‘em. Whore’s a paradox, man—weak but mighty.

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Lots of spots here spur my creative side. The narrow alleys near Triumph Court? Each one’s got secrets. They remind me of wild nights, unexpected swipe-right moments full of risk. My job’s made me a keen observer, so I catch tiny details – lampposts, quirky shop signs, the local chatter echoing off brick walls. It's a loving mess, so full of surprises.

Club Statement: Irish Cup Final