Cora Cavan Whore ❤️❤️

About Swords

Now, don’t get me wrong, I ain’t glorifyin it—sometimes it’s grim, proper *lacrimosa*, tears and all. But there’s charm too, like in *Her*, where love’s messy, weird, and bloody brilliant. Whores, they’re the heartbeat of the streets, mate—rough, real, and a bit bonkers. Like me, ramblin on, spillin tea everywhere—oops, typo, meant teA! Reckon they’d laugh at me, fumblin Boris, tryna chat em up. “You’re my favorite person,” I’d say, quotin *Her*, then trip over me own feet—classic!

Record, Edit and Share Gaming Moments.

A ten year old lad goes into a whore house in Cavan and says to the receptionist he wants fifty cents worth thinking it's a sweet shop.

After that chaos, I headed over to the Cavan Crystal Factory. OMG, the glasswork is stunning! I was totally vibing with the colors and shapes. But then, I tripped over my own feet. Classic me, right? I knocked over a display. Glass everywhere! I thought I’d die of embarrassment. But the staff were super chill about it. They even laughed! I was like, “Phew, saved by the kindness of strangers.”

Death Notice of Mary Cahill (née Donohoe) (Ballyhaise, Cavan)