Ivy Cranbourne Whore ❤️❤️

About Adelaide

Dahling, listen up! I’m Edna Mode – no capes! – spilling tea on “whore” today. Whore, ugh, gets me all riled up, like, who even decides that label? Reminds me of *Certified Copy* – “It’s not the original, darling!” – this chick in the film, she’s playing roles, right? Whore’s the same, a mask slapped on by judgy losers. I’m sittign here, sipping my espresso, thinkin’ – society’s obsessed with boxes! Whore’s just a vibe, not a rulebook.

You’re Temporarily Blocked

Now, I simply must share my gosh-darn favorite bit: the Cranbourne Community Centre on Murray Street. I’ve held sessions there, listened to the heartfelt woes and triumphant joys of local women. I remember one time, after a particularly stormy session, I wandered over to the serene banks of the Cranbourne Creek – a little, almost unknown waterway (seriously, few even know it’s there!). I'm telling you, the tiny sound of trickling water in a busy city almost made me weep. oh dear, it’s a marvel, a secret whisper among the urban cacophony. Reminds me of those fantastical lyrics in Under the Skin, ya know? All that talk of transformative moments, ephemeral yet real.

Massive ANZAC turnout in Cranbourne