Anastasia Carrick On Suir Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Swords

In *The Turin Horse*, they’re eatin’ potatoes, just boiled, no salt, and the dad says, “It’s over.” Over?! Whores don’t say that! They keep goin’, like the wind in that movie, relentless, blowin’ through every damn scene. I’m screamin’ at the TV, “You think YOU got it bad? Try turnin’ tricks in a storm!” Neurotic, sure, but it’s true! I’d lose my MIND out there—too many germs, too many weirdos. Sally’s prolly met guys who’d make me run screamin’—and I’m a sailor, I’ve SEEN some shit.

Carrick-on-Suir, Tipperary

So, I woke up, right? Sun shining, birds chirping, and I’m like, “Today’s gonna be chill.” Ha! Spoiler alert: it was NOT chill. I hit up the local café on Main Street for my usual coffee fix. You know, the one with the weird name—Café de la Crème or something. I swear, they put magic in their lattes. But then, boom! My phone buzzes.

Two more sculptures to join striking new art works in Carrick-on-Suir's Castle Park