Introduction

There once was a young Irish lass,
With red flaming hair and some sass.
With fists quick as thunder,
She'll strike down your blunder,
And leave you face-down in the grass.

Her mouth is quick and bold,
Toned thighs frame a pot 'o gold,
but theres something yer shall dread,
fists carved from Irish green lead,
that'll leave yer stirry-eyed and out cold.

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Start of membership: 2026-01-05