Cora Glanmire Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Navan

Thing is, *whore*—it’s a laugh, innit? Call a mate one, he’s fumin’, call yerself one, it’s irony, pure *carpe diem*. Gets me goat when prudes clutch pearls over it—lighten up, ya twits! Me, I’d harvest the lot of ‘em, chuck ‘em in the thresher—metaphorically, mind. Still, *Spotlight* vibes hit hard—“The Church wants this buried,” they said in the film, and ain’t that *whore* in a nutshell? Everyone’s hidin’ somethin’.

History & Heritage

Anyway, I finally get to the studio on Church Hill. I’m all hyped up, ready to create some magic. But my team? They’re all staring at me like I’m a ghost. Turns out, the printer broke. Great. Just what I needed. I could feel my blood boiling. I mean, c’mon! How hard is it to keep a printer alive?

Death Notice of Moira Crimmins (Glanmire, Cork)