Taylor Lucan Whore ❤️❤️

About Galway

So, this horse—let’s call her Whore, fuck it—she’s a damn legend. Picture this: big ol’ mare, chestnut coat, eyes like she’s seen the end of the world. “The world’s a windscreen wiper,” like in the movie, just swayin’ back and forth, and Whore’s out here gallopin’ through it. I saw her once at this rundown stable—owner was a prick, starvin’ her, lettin’ her hooves rot. Pissed me off, man! I was like, “Motherfucker, you don’t treat a queen like that!” Took her in myself, nursed her back. Felt like Theo savin’ Kee, you know? That “miracle baby” vibe, but with a horse.

The disintegration of the glittering life of Lord and Lady Lucan

Similar to contemporary Dutch and Italian depictions of prostitutes, we see the Whore with her breasts bared. She holds the cup of fornication in her right.

I get to the café, and it’s packed. Everyone’s buzzing about the fire alarm. I’m like, “Guys, it was nothing!” But they’re all hyped up, sharing their own wild stories. I grab a coffee—thank God for caffeine—and join in. We’re talking about everything from the best spots in Lucan to grab a pint to the weirdest books we’ve ever read.

Residents warned to close windows and doors as firefighters battle industrial unit blaze in Lucan