Grace Drogheda Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Galway

Here’s a wild bit—Victorian era, right? “Whore” was whispered while dudes paid for it in droves. Hypocrisy meter off the charts! I’d slap a neural network on that, analyze the BS coefficient. Prolly why I dig Cronenberg—cuts through fakery like a plasma torch. “You’ve got blood on you,” Tom says—whore’s got blood too, history’s stains. Makes me wanna yeet sanctimony into orbit.

Background

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I decide to head to the nearest café, maybe grab a coffee. I’m walking down Peter Street, and I see this old fella, Mr. O’Reilly, trying to fix his car. Poor guy’s got more tools than sense. I stop to help, but he’s like, “Nah, I got it.” I’m thinking, “You sure, mate? That thing looks like it’s been through the wars.”

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