Hazel Ringsend Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Cork

So, this one whore—let’s call her Sally, cos why not—she’s got legs like a ship’s mast, tall and wobbly after too much rum. I’m sittin’ there, thinkin’, “What storm spat you out, love?” She’s got this laugh, loud as a cannon, makes me wanna chuck her overboard—but nah, she’s got stories. Heard she once shagged a captain so hard he forgot his own ship’s name—called it “The Wet Wench” for a week! Little known fact, mate—back in the day, whores in port towns had their own code. Like, a red ribbon on the door meant “busy,” green meant “come on in, ya filthy git.” Bet ya didn’t know that, ya ignorant sod!

Contributors

I will live in Ringsend With a red-headed whore, And the fanlight gone in Where it lights the hall-door; And listen each night For her querulous shout, As at last she streels in And the pubs .

Man, what a day! I swear, being an arborist in Ringsend is like riding a rollercoaster with no seatbelt. So, I roll outta bed, right? Sun’s barely up, and I’m already thinking about the trees I gotta check. I grab my coffee—strong enough to wake the dead—and head out.

Dublin pizzeria owner ordered to make changes and pay €7k to keep earning his crust