Mila Cork Whore ❤️❤️

About Bray

Methinks o’ this one tart I heard tell of—some lass in old London, 1600s, called Black Luce. Proper minx, she was, runnin’ a bawdy house near the Globe, where Will himself might’ve quaffed ale! Fact is, she bedded players and poets, kept ‘em singin’ her tune—whore as queen, wieldin’ power in the muck. Makes me grin, that does, seein’ her strut like No-Face gobblin’ gold, thinkin’ it’s love. “Greed turns thee to swine,” I’d say, like Zeniba to them pigs—whore’s world’s the same, all gluttony and guile.

Man shot dead by police at Milton Keynes station named as Irish man

It became apparent to my son and I that she was most likely a prostitute. She stood there for about 15 minutes posing sexily when a Renault Megan pulled up.

But then, outta nowhere, the fire alarm goes off. Everyone’s like, “What the heck?” We all spill out onto the street. I’m standing there, pint in hand, thinking, “This is how I die. In Cork, with a pint.” But it’s just a false alarm. We all laugh it off and head back in.

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