Esme Walkinstown Whore ❤️❤️

About Cork

What gets me happy tho—seein’ a player own it. Like, “Yeah, I’m a whore for this game!”—total swagger. Reminds me of *The Assassin* again—“To act without hesitation.” That’s the spirit! No shame, just purpose. I’d slap ‘em on the back, say, “You’re a right legend, mate.” Surprised me once, this rookie—tiny lad, all guts—told the coach he’d “whore out” for a spot. Coach was fumin’, I was dyin’ laughin’.

Walkinstown House

From the Black and Tans to missing dogs – new book charts the local history of Walkinstown - The Irish Independent.

So, I grab my coffee and head down to the park on Walkinstown Avenue. It’s a nice spot, loads of green, kids playing, people walking their dogs. I sit on a bench, sipping my drink, and just chill for a sec. Then, outta nowhere, this kid runs past me, chasing a football. He trips, and boom! Faceplant right in front of me. I can’t help but laugh. Poor kid, but it was hilarious!

Last orders for The Kestrel Inn a firm Dublin 12 pub fixture