Lauren Maynooth Whore ❤️❤️

About Galway

O thou saucy minx! This word “whore” doth tickle me fancy, aye, like a jest from the Bard’s own quill. I’m scribbling this fast, perchance 18 typos’ll creep in—forgive me, mate, I’m no scribe of perfection. I reckon it’s a term old as dirt, yet it dances wild in me head, conjuring visions both foul and fair. ‘Tis a harlot’s badge, a scarlet letter stitched bold, but methinks it’s more—oh, aye, a mirror to us all! In “Talk to Her,” that film I adore, Pedro Almodóvar spins tales of love so queer and raw, it’s like “whore” ain’t just a wench sellin’ flesh, but a soul bared naked, cryin’ out. “I’ve lost my fear of silence,” saith Alicia’s stillness—doth not a whore, too, speak in silences ‘twixt her trade?

Nobody is coming soon

Do you deserve a special treat? If the answer is yes, call Alessandra, a special escort who is in Maynooth and who is waiting for a special meeting.

Then, outta nowhere, my phone buzzes. It’s my buddy, Dave. He’s like, “Dude, you gotta see this!” I’m thinking, “What now?” Turns out, there’s a pop-up market at the Maynooth Town Park. Fresh produce, crafts, the whole shebang. I’m like, “Can’t I just finish this meeting first?” But the thought of those fresh strawberries is killing me.

Maynooth University defeated in Fitzgibbon Cup