Eliza Tralee Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Swords

Whores, right? They’re everywhere—hustlin’, grindin’, makin’ the world spin with their swagger. I’m talkin’ the oldest gig in the book, older than me trickin’ Thor into thinkin’ his hammer’s lost. Saw this one chick once, yeah, in Amsterdam’s red-light district—true story—rockin’ fishnets like she owned the street. She did! Had this vibe, like, “I’m not here to please you, you’re here to pay me.” Respect. Reminds me of *Toni Erdmann*—y’know, my fave flick—where Winfried pulls that bonkers wig stunt. “Life’s just a big performance,” he’d say, and whores? They’re the damn directors.

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First off, I hit the streets of Tralee, right? Strolled down the main drag, The Mall. It’s a nice spot, but lemme tell ya, the weather was all over the place. One minute, sunshine. Next minute, rain. Classic Irish, am I right? I was like, “Great, just what I need.”

Death Notice of Marie Porter (née O'Regan) (Tralee, Kerry)