Katherine Celbridge Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Dublin

Oi, you lot, listen up! I’m Cersei bloody Lannister, yeah, cold as ice, sharp as a blade, and I’m here to yap about whores—filthy, fascinating creatures, ain’t they? Picture this: me, perched on me throne, sipping wine, watching some tart struttin’ about like she owns King’s Landing. Makes me wanna scream, “I choose violence!” and toss her into the muck where she belongs. Whores, right? They’re everywhere—sneakin’ into beds, coin clinkin’ in their grubby paws. Reminds me of that mess of a film, *Requiem for a Dream*—you seen it? Gods, it’s my fave, all that despair, that raw, ugly want. “Ass to ass!”—that line, ugh, hits me gut every time. Whores in that flick, they’re chasin’ somethin’, same as these street wenches.

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After that, I finally get my pen and head back to the library. I’m back in the zone, and I’m piecing together this amazing story about Celbridge’s history. I’m feeling all proud and stuff. But then, my phone buzzes. It’s my boss. “We need to talk,” it says. Oh great, what now?

'Who can make the least mistakes' the key says Celbridge boss Micheál McDermott