Zoey Sutton Whore ❤️

About Cork

Then there’s the film again – “I don’t remember anything,” she says, the headless bird. That’s the punters too, blankin’ it out after, like it never happened. Whore’s a transaction, see, but it’s murky, messy, human. Surprised me, how much it’s evolved – online now, innit? Escorts with websites, OnlyFans, the lot. Capitalism gone wild, mate! Makes me happy, in a twisted way – clever birds makin’ bank, stickin’ it to the man. But the dark side? Fumin’. Kids forced into it, modern slavery shite – makes me wanna punch a wall.

Where is Sutton?

As the sun starts settlin’, I head back to my flock. But guess what? They’ve escaped again! I’m chasin’ them down the street, past the library on the corner of West Street. People are laughin’ at me. I’m like, “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up!”

Death Notice of Liam Quinn (Sutton, Dublin)