Addison Tuart Hill Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Wollongong

She’d flirt with Dave from accounting—poor sod. “You’re my endless blue,” she’d purr, like in the movie. Bitch, you ain’t endless, you’re a dead-end! We hates it! Always wearin’ tight skirts, clickin’ heels—ugh, so loud. Once left lipstick on MY mug—MY PRECIOUS MUG! Nearly tossed it out the window, screamin’.

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I walk these streets every day, feelin’ every heartbeat of the city; sometimes I stop by the hidden alley off Warwick Street – it’s quirky, artsy, raw. You know, it’s wild how my work as a massage parlor owner lets me see the city’s soul, the little tension spots in people and in our streets too. Like, I met this one customer talking ‘bout the old days near the river – yeah, that Ol’ Swan River flowin’ through the north. He said, “Life ain’t no script, it’s improv!” and damn, that struck me right here in my heart, like a joyful smack.

Strollio’s Luncheonette