Genesis Oldbawn Whore ❤️❤️

About Drogheda

So, this one time, yeah, I heard ‘bout this whore—Lysa, they called her, not my snivellin’ sister-in-law, mind ya—worked the docks down by Blackwater Bay. Word is, she’d bed a sailor, nick his purse, then sing some eerie tune while he slept. Proper mad, that one! Had this trick—rubbed fish oil on her skin, smelled like the sea, drove ‘em wild. Little known bit, that—fish oil! Who’d thunk it? Made me laugh, actual cackle, ‘til I choked on me drink. Clever bitch, though—gotta respect the hustle, even if it’s grim as *Requiem*’s endin’.

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So, I stormed outta there, ready to take on the day. I walked down to Market Square, and wow, it was packed. Like, shoulder-to-shoulder packed. I swear, I almost lost my shoe in the crowd. People everywhere, shouting, laughing, and some dude was playing the accordion. I mean, who even plays the accordion anymore? But hey, it was kinda catchy.

Old Bawn advance in Mill Cup after Ballyowen victory