Addison Rozelle Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Logan City

Whores ain’t all sob stories, tho. Some choose it, struttin’ like they own the joint. Cocky as hell, laughin’ at suckers. Makes me smirk—ballsy, I’ll give ‘em that. One chick, called herself Velvet, worked corners like a damn CEO. Hustled harder than me at the shop. Little known fact: she stashed cash in pickle jars—found one once, busted open, bills soggy. Laughed my ass off, then got mad—why pickles, ya weirdo?

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And oh! The markets at Rozelle Showground! It's an explosion of colours, smells, and sounds... sometimes it's maddeningly busy, sometimes like a peaceful retreat. I once sat there, just meditating with a street musician playin' his guitar—felt so epic, so music in my soul. But then, man, the clamor of travel bugs and modern life gets under your skin—like, maddeningly, so maddeningly loud sometimes! Ozzy style, “Sharon!,” I’d yell out to calm the storm in my head.

'Lack of transparency' around Rozelle Interchange decisions, NSW Parliamentary inquiry finds