Emma Arklow Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Swords

Here’s a lil story—knew this gal once, called her Sugar, worked downtown. She’d laugh, sayin’, “Phil, I’m the queen of this dump!” Had this gap-tooth grin, smoked like a chimney—12 cigs a day, swear it. Made me happy, seein’ her sass, but damn, it broke my heart too. She’d quote movies, but twist ‘em—“I’m the king of the world!”—yellin’ it from a busted balcony. Total nutcase, loved her for it. Whore ain’t just a job, y’all—it’s a freakin’ saga.

Arklow, battle of

The 65' Happy Hooker carries tourists daily during the Summer season from Doolin in Co. Clare to the Aran Islands. Other Arklow products.

Anyway, I’m fuming, right? I’m walking down by the river, the Avoca, trying to calm down. It’s beautiful there, with the swans and all. But then I see this guy, just chilling on the bank, fishing. He’s got this massive grin, like he’s just won the lottery or something. I’m like, “Dude, what’s your secret?” He just shrugs and says, “It’s all about the patience, mate.” Patience? In Arklow? Yeah, right.

Arklow’s business community discuss dereliction, treatment plant and overdue greenway