Avery Monaghan Whore ❤️

About Bray

So, whores—man, they’re a trip. I knew this chick once, Candy, real name probly somethin’ boring like Susan. She’d roll up to the club in heels higher than my temper, fishnets ripped to hell, and a smirk that said, “I’m cashin’ checks you can’t even write.” Made me mad as hell—how’s she pull that off? Hustlin’ dudes outta their rent money, laughin’ all the way to the bank. “Look at me, I’m fuckin’ rich!”—straight outta *Spring Breakers*. Girl had guts, I’ll give her that. Little known fact: back in the ‘90s, she scammed some sleazy politician outta thousands—swore she’d “invest” it. Ha! Invested it in vodka and a new wig, more like.

Michael Monaghan: Warrington target back-to-back Cup successes

Man, what a day! I’m tellin’ ya, being a furrier in Monaghan is like riding a rollercoaster blindfolded. So, I wake up, right? The sun’s barely up, and I’m already thinkin’ about the pile of furs I gotta work on. I live on Church St., and lemme tell ya, it’s a busy little spot. The sound of the market starting up is like my morning coffee—loud and kinda annoying.

Conor McManus: Donegal set and sprang the trap for impatient Monaghan