Esme Artane Whore ❤️

About Cork

Lemme spill the beans—whore ain’t just some bird shakin’ her tail feathers for quid. Nah, man, it’s a whole scene! Back in the ‘60s, swingin’ London days, these chicks were rebels, yeah? Ditchin’ the squares, livin’ wild. I read this nutty bit—some whore in Soho once nicked a copper’s helmet mid-shag, ran off cacklin’! True story, baby! Makes me laugh my bleedin’ arse off. Cheeky minx!

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I love here mostly ’cause it’s alive. There's Eircom Park, a wild green sprawl. I’ve spent afternoons there qibbling with friends, draped in sunlight and squabbles. It’s a perfect place for heartfelt chats under whisperin’ trees. Even the river Liffey, viewable in bits ’round the basin, hums tales. Misty truths dance in its ripples, and me thinks, “Aye, this too be magic… or madness?”—how I often joke, slurred like me rum tales.

Famous Artane Band to join Strabane Brass in concert - Photo 1 of 1 - Alpha Newspaper Group