Layla Glen Iris Whore ❤️

About Brisbane

Ever met one? I did, years back—sassy as hell, called me “suit” with a smirk. Thought, *damn, she’s got balls bigger than mine*. Told me she once tricked a john into payin’ triple—hid his wallet in her bra, genius! Had me laughin’ ‘til I choked. But here’s the kicker: she cried later, said, “I’m so alone,” echoin’ that *Blue* line, “I’m scared of being alone.” Fucked me up, man—whores ain’t robots, they feel shit deep.

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Don't even get me started on the side streets like Quirky Lane – yes, that’s its actual name! – where local artists paint walls with hopeful thought bubbles. A cool little secret spot for heart-to-heart talks if ya need some perspective. Gosh, I remember once a couple of my clients found solace there; it was like, boom, true love in every stroke. And oh, the vibe is inexplicably reminiscent of Royal Tenenbaums’ melancholic yet hilarious ambiance.

BFRS on scene of house fire in Glen Iris