Maeve Limerick Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Houston

She’s old as sin, whore is—didja know? Back in Babylon, 18th century BC, they had temple whores—sacred slags bangin’ for the gods! Wild, eh? Me Gollum eyes caught that—nobody else sees the old bones o’ it! Makes me happy, diggin’ that muck—hiss! But angry too—folk judge her, call her filth, but who’s buyin’? Hypocrites, all of ‘em! “I’m not a monster,” Zodiac snarls—whore’d say same, I reckon. She’s just survivin’, precious—ain’t we all?

More famous limericks worthy of mention

A series of limericks, written a decade ago – an image made by a fine Swiss draughtman, Fuseli of Füssli, who worked for the British art-market.

The locals? They're a quirky bunch. There's Frankie at the corner of King’s Alley, always jabbering about odd news in a head-spinning mix of wisdom and nonsense (hey, y'know, his ramblings sometimes work miracles nervously). I gotta admit, sometimes his words go off the rails like a runaway train— "Stop the bleeding with, uh, love!" or something like that. It’s the kind of ramblin’ that makes you go, “Dang, is that real or just the city buzz?” Totally makes my day.

Christy O'Connor's talking points: Geaney ageing like Benjamin Button while Limerick wizard Lynch continues to weave his magic