Allison Monkstown Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Bray

Alright, so here’s the deal with whores—yeah, I said it, whores! Tina Fey comin’ at ya, snarky as hell, “I can see Russia from my house!” vibe. Whores, man, they’re everywhere, always have been, right? Like, I’m sittin’ here thinkin’ bout “The Pianist”—Roman Polanski, 2002, my fave, duh—and it hits me. Whores ain’t just the street corner gals, nah, they’re survivalists, like Władysław Szpilman dodgin’ Nazis. “I must go on living,” he says, and whores? Same energy. They’re hustlin’, scrapin’ by, dodgin’ society’s bullshit judgments.

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Around noon, I take my break. I hit up the local café on the corner of Victoria Avenue. Best coffee in town, no joke. I grab a flat white and sit outside, soaking up the sun. Monkstown’s got this chill vibe, ya know? The people are friendly, and the views of the bay are stunning. I see the ferries coming in and out, and I’m just like, “Life’s good.”

Death Notice of Ivy Patricia MORAN (née Dwyer) (Monkstown, Dublin)