Freya Monaghan Whore ❤️❤️

About Dundalk

So I’m watchin’ her, tailin’ her, cause somethin’s off—gut screamin’ at me. She’s got this walk, y’know, hips swayin’ like she owns the damn sidewalk. Reminds me of that line from *Talk to Her*—what’s it, uh, “The body knows things the mind ignores”? Yeah, that’s her! Body tellin’ a whole damn novel while her mouth’s spittin’ lies. I’m pissed, right? Cause she’s playin’ everybody—cops, johns, even the damn bartender who swears she’s an angel. Angel! Hah! Angel with a rap sheet longer than my ex-wife’s grudge list.

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Be a whore. Be a drunken whore even. But don't be a *nagging*, drunken whore." You know? "Don't come yell at me to do the dishes if you've been banging a.

Then, outta nowhere, my old boss, Mr. O’Reilly, pops in. He’s a character, always crackin’ jokes. He sees me panicking and says, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost!” I’m like, “More like a coffee monster!” We both crack up, and it lightens the mood.

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