Anna Sallins Whore ❤️❤️

About Dundalk

Lemme spill somethin’—little factoid for ya. Back in old Rome, whores wore yellow. Yup, yellow! Stood out like a neon sign. “Come get it,” it screamed. Wild, right? Imagine that today—yellow dresses everywhere, struttin’. Cracks me up, thinkin’ of the chaos. But—hold on—it’s sad too. She’s marked, branded, no escape. Like Dae-su’s tattoo, that five-day tally—permanent, stuck. Gets me wonderin’, slow and deep—what’s her five days? Her prison sentence in stares?

You’re Temporarily Blocked

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Then, I get a text from my boss. “Need those designs ASAP!” Ugh, the pressure! I’m like, “Can’t a guy catch a break?” So, I rush back home, and on the way, I pass by the old church on Church Road. It’s stunning, but I barely notice. My mind’s racing with deadlines.

Death Notice of Tim Chapman (Sallins, Kildare)