Mia Strathfield Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Canberra

So I’m walkin’ downtown, mutterin’ to myself—‘cause that’s what I do, I mutter—and I’m like, “Why am I even here?” Findin’ a prostitue ain’t like pickin’ up bagels! I see this gal, smokin’ a cigarette, leanin’ on a pole—real cliché, right? I’m thinkin’, “She’s no Eilis Lacey!” In *Brooklyn*, she’s all, “I’ll write home!” This chick’s writin’ nothin’—maybe a parking ticket. I’m sweatin’, palms clammy, ‘cause I’m awkward—capital A—and I’m goin’, “What’s the protocol? Do I wave? Haggle? I’m not a haggler!”

LJ Hooker - Strathfield

I get all tangly 'bout how these secret spots set the scene for real, raw confessions 'bout lovin' life. Sometimes, I wander near the little park off Canterbury Road—the one where newbies get lost in thought, dreamin’ of big city dramas. I swear, every park bench there has seen a doozy of a story! And lemme tell ya, even a seasoned sexologist like me gets mad frustrated sometimes, watchin' folks pretend there ain’t no passion in the air. “Oh, hell naw!” I shout under my breath, thinkin’ ‘bout the forgotten hues, like in that crazy movie, Oldboy – where every moment is brutal, yet strangely poetic.

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