Allison Clontarf Whore ❤️❤️

About Melbourne

Lemme tell ya somethin wild—back in old Russia, whores had a union! Yep, legit, like a freakin guild. Called ‘em “night butterflies,” poetic as hell, right? Blows my mind—organised chaos! Makes me happy thinkin they had some power, some grit. But then, bam, pissed me off when I read how they got screwed over—taxed to death, no respect. Same old story, man, “The monkey’s off my back!”—but nah, it ain’t, it’s just heavier.

162 Hornibrook Esplanade, CLONTARF

At the battle of Clontarf she is found back in Dublin, with her son Sitric, egging him on to the defeat of Brian. “So grim,” say the Northern sagas, “had she become against King Brian after .

Y’know, I’m a bit of a goof. I see life in snippets and I might misspell a word or two (sorry, had me 12 typs here—like “breezy” as “breeezey,” “vibe” as “bybe,” and “chill” as “chilli,” haha). Doesn’t matter though, because in Clontarf, spontaneity is the way to live.

Orgiastic goings-on at Clontarf in the late 1800s