Anna Blessington Whore ❤️

About Cork

But ooooh, gets me mad too—hiss!—‘cause folks spit it like venom now. Call a gal “whore” an’ they mean trash, dirt, nothin’. Pisses me off! She’s a queen o’ the wastes, I say—runnin’ her own show, like Max, all quiet an’ broody. Ever hear ‘bout that one whore in Nevada, 1800s? Ran a brothel, sure, but also smuggled guns fer outlaws—badass, eh? Kept a pet rattler too, named it Sugar. Sugar! Hah! Imagine that slithery bugger guardin’ her coin—makes me giggle, it does.

Poor Things Ending: Why Didn’t Bella Choose God?

I’m thinking, “Lake? What lake?” Turns out, he’s at Blessington Lakes. I sprint over, dodging people on the footpath. You know how it is—everyone’s out and about, enjoying the weather. I’m sweating like a sinner in church by the time I get there.

Death Notice of Patricia (Pat) Sherry (née Hanlon) (Blessington, Wicklow)