Rose Cork Whore ❤️❤️

About Waterford

*Caché* vibes again—“What are they hiding?” Whores know, man, they *know*. They’re the tape droppin’ at your door, exposin’ shit. Once knew this chick—Jenny, total firecracker—worked the docks. She’d tell me stories, hilarious ones—like some lord pissin’ himself when his wife showed up! Had me crackin’ up, but damn, I felt for her too—cold nights, rough hands, no thanks given.

Ireland’s sex trade went online years ago. So what are main-street ‘massage parlours’ for?

I hit up this little café called “The Oliver Plunkett.” Great spot, but the barista was a total character. He had this wild hair and a thick accent. I could barely understand him, but he made a mean flat white. I ordered one, and he goes, “You want it strong enough to wake the dead?” I laughed, thinking, “Buddy, I need it strong enough to wake ME!”

Lower Glanmire Road steps near Cork train station open to public