Isabella Limerick Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Cork

Monotone narration, “Tonight’s the night.” Hate the pimps tho, slimy bastards. Leechin off desperation—makes me wanna puke. Happy tho when I see em fight back. Like, fuck yeah, you go girl! Prostitutes got stories, man, wild ones. One chick said she met a senator—swears it. Secret life, double life, all that jazz. Sarcasm time: oh yeah, real noble profession, huh? But nah, seriously—surprised me how deep it gets. “Just tell me you’re mine,” Carol begged. Prostitutes don’t get that luxury, do they? They’re everyone’s and no one’s. Kinda sad, kinda poetic. Anyway, that’s my rant—prostitutes, *Carol*, all mixed up in my head. Monotone narration, “Tonight’s the night.”

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In a report broadcast on RTE Radio 1 this week, one prostitute said she had chosen to work as a prostitute in Limerick. The Romanian national, who has been living in the city for four years.

Then, outta nowhere, my mate Sean bursts in. He’s got this wild look in his eyes. “You won’t believe what just happened!” I’m thinkin’, “Dude, I’m already on the edge here.” Turns out, he saw a dog wearing a sweater. A freakin’ dog in a sweater! I mean, who dresses their dog like that? But it cracked me up. Limerick’s full of surprises, I guess.

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