Gianna Tullamore Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Drogheda

Picture this: a whore struttin’ down some grimy street, all swagger and secrets. Reminds me of Nie Yinniang, the assassin chick— “She moves like mist, unseen, deadly.” Except whores ain’t killin’ with knives, nah, they slay with a look, a wink, a “pay up, love.” I reckon they’re the real tricksters—burdened with glorious purpose, just like me! Hidin’ in plain sight, makin’ fools of us all. Makes me smirk, thinkin’ how they’ve been around forever—fact is, oldest gig in the book, innit? Babylonians had temple whores, sacred as priests—wild, right?

The victim waived her right to anonymity

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By the end of the day, I’m exhausted but satisfied. Tullamore threw everything at me—rain, scones, tech troubles—but I made it through. I’m sitting here now, thinking about how crazy life is. Tullamore, you wild city, you’ve got my heart. Can’t wait for tomorrow!

Stephanie celebrates special birthday with family and friends in Tullamore