Savannah Fermoy Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Limerick

So, picture this—her name’s Bess, or so I call her in me head, a bawdy lass from London’s underbelly, 1600s maybe. She’s no prim rose, nah, but a wild weed, bloomin’ where she oughtn’t. Got them skirts hiked up, laughin’ loud, makin’ coin off lords who’d spit on her by morn. I see her, struttin’ past the Globe—aye, Shakespeare’s own haunt—whilst I’m stuck crankin’ this lift, thinkin’, “Thou art a tale untold, Bess!” She’s got eyes like stormy seas, drownin’ fools who stare too long. “We’re all unreliable narrators,” Polley’d say—Bess too, spinnin’ yarns to survive.

5 Fermoy Crescent, HOWRAH

As we walked back, I spotted the old church on Abbey Street. It’s such a beautiful building. I always get a bit emotional when I see it. It’s like, history, you know? But then I remembered I had to get back to work. Ugh, adulting sucks.

“Family comes first – but Fermoy GAA is a close second”