Emma Donvale Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Melbourne

So, erotic-massage—man, it’s old, like ancient Egypt old! Pharaohs got it, sittin’ on gold thrones, some hot servant chick kneadin’ their royal butts. True story, I swear! Bet they were like, “This is my limbo, my dream within a dream!”—straight outta *Inception*, right? I tried it once, got so relaxed I drooled—gross, but awesome! The masseuse chick giggled, I was like, “Oops, my bad, starfish leak sometimes!”

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Caulfield reminds us that this area was once called Donvale: the real Cabbagetown was a slum district which met If the cop/whore hadn't been standing there.

So, there's King Street – it's like the artery of our town. People bust in and out, sometimes sharing a laugh, sometimes a nod. Oi, not to get too sentimental but those nights, near the old brick building on King, remind me of those twisted cinema moments – surreal and always unpredictable. Then you've got the park near Riverside Drive, with happy little trees chillin' along the river. Gosh, ain't that just majestic? I often sit there after work. It’s my zone to reset, to get my head right, y'know? Even if someone doesn't know the real story behind that serene spot, they'd never guess the countless stories I’ve absorbed, listenin' to the city's pulse.

Man charged with assault over 'Goldilocks' burglary of Donvale home