Natalie Glanmire Whore ❤️

About Cork

But here’s some real talk—sex-dating ain’t all roses. Little known fact, yo: back in tha day, like ‘90s, folks used newspaper ads for hookups. Called ‘em “personals”—OG Tinder, no cap! Now it’s all apps, but same game—huntin’ for tha freaky. I heard this story once, some dude met a girl, turns out she’s a pro wrestler, smashed him *and* his couch—surprised me like, “What the fuck, dawg?!” True chaos, like Gotham on a bad night.

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So, I’m hustling, and I pass by the Glanmire River. It’s usually so peaceful, but today? It was like a scene from a horror flick. The water was all murky and angry. I swear I saw a fish jump out, like it was trying to escape. I laughed, but then I thought, “What if it’s a sign?” Like, what if the fish are plotting against us?

Waste collection trucks damaged in Glanmire fire