Gabriella Crestmead Prostitute ❤️

About Wollongong

What gets me ragin? The stink. Gods, the stench of em—sweat, ale, shame all mixed up. Saw one once, bold as brass, tits out, hagglin with some merchant. Nearly spat my drink—surprised me she had the stones to barter! But happy? Hah, never. They’re a jest, a sad little game. “I choose violence” over pityin em—let em rot, I say. Oh, and get this—heard some brothel in Lys trains em to cry on command. Tears for extra gold, pathetic!

2. Limitation de responsabilité.

And whoa prostitution is mysteriously way down in the past 20 years but the one on breaches for domestic violence orders is the most scary one.

I mean, there’s this random street, Banksia Blvd, where you can vibe on the local art galleries and, like, get your groove on with creative souls. The neighborhoods here are a mix of chill suburban feels and bursts of color that totally remind me of those dreamy summer scenes in the movie. Ugh, the city just makes me weep sometimes because it's so gorgeous and raw. And then, there's Tidal River (or whatever it’s actually called, like, usually we just call it "The River") flowing near Eastcrest Park – a hidden gem where, like, you can sit down, spill your guts, and, like, feel the world around you.

UPDATE: House fire, Crestmead