Abigail Woongarrah Whore ❤️

About Wollongong

Last week, tailed her to this dive bar—smelled like piss and regret. She’s there, flirty with some geezer, skirt hiked up, laughin’ loud. I’m thinkin’, “Blimey, she’s got game!” But then—fuck me—she spots me, eyes like daggers. Nearly blew my cover, heart poundin’ like a drum. “War’s an addiction,” Bigelow’d say—chasin’ Ruby’s my fix, mate. Gets me proper riled up when she slips away, vanishin’ like smoke. Angry? Yeah, cos she’s too damn clever!

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Whew, so many err’ moments: once, I got mad as hell when a noisy crowd disrespected the quiet aura near Bloomfield Gardens – like, bruh, respect the vibe! And then there’s the dreamy dusk near Whispering Wharf, where couples snuggle beneath neon skies, making every street lit with revelation. Yeah, some nights, it’s like walking thru a fever dream with passion pumping in your veins and history echoing from every brick.

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