Emily Thurles Find A Prostitute ❤️

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Heard a story once—true shit, swear it—some prossie in Budapest, back in Tarr’s day, got hired to just *stand* there, silent, for an artsy dude. Didn’t even bang, just stared at her for hours. Creepy, right? But paid her triple! Little known fact—lotta these girls got tales like that, weird gigs, not just the usual. Surprised me, honestly—thought it was all grim, but nah, some hustle’s got flair.

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But then, the day takes a turn. I’m chatting with a customer, and suddenly, this massive dog runs by. I mean, HUGE. It’s like a bear on a leash. The owner’s struggling to keep it in check. The dog sees me and bolts straight for my table. I’m like, “No, no, no!” But it’s too late. My stuff goes flying everywhere. I’m talking phones, chargers, you name it. I’m standing there, mouth agape, while the owner’s apologizing like mad. I’m fuming, but also kinda laughing. Like, really? A dog?

ON THE WHISTLE: Thurles CBS into Harty Cup final after semi-final defeat of De La Salle