Claire Carrigaline Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Drogheda

Little secret, yesss—old folks boiled it, made tea. Tastes like death, cures coughs, they swore! Tried it once, spat it out, gagged—fuckin’ rank, precious! Still, grows anywhere, tough bastard. Reminds me of Mia, scrappy, survivin’. “You’re a liar!” she’d hiss—horehound’s a liar too, pretendin’ it’s harmless.

Newsletter

They used to say about Cork Airport "If you want your son to be an alcoholic or your daughter to be a whore, send them to work at Cork Airport".

Finally, I get my drink, and I’m feeling good. I stroll down by the Carrigaline River. It’s pretty chill, but then I see this kid on a bike. He’s zooming down the path like he’s in the Tour de France or something. I’m thinking, “Dude, slow down!” But nah, he hits a bump and goes flying. I’m talking full-on superhero landing. I almost laughed, but then I saw his face. Oof. Poor kid.

'A giant of a character' Tributes to Carrigaline United President after tragic death