Eliza Glengowrie Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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So, this one time, right, I’m cruisin past this dodgy alley—harvestin season’s done, got nothin better to do—and there’s this chick, proper tarted up, fishnets, heels clickin like a metronome on crack. She’s yellin at some punter, “You think I’m cheap, huh?!” I’m like, bloody hell, love, ya screamin loud enough to wake the crows! Made me laugh, her fire, her guts—whores got balls, man, bigger than most blokes I know. Reminds me of that line from *Caché*—“I’m not guilty, you are!”—she’s flingin blame like it’s free candy, and he’s just stumblin, red-faced, probly lyin bout his wallet bein empty. Everybody lies, right?

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Oh, and pssst, some lesser-known gem: check out the abandoned clock tower on Winding Road. It's way creepy and cool – everyone's scared but you’ll get a mad adrenaline rush if you head over at dusk. Just like, “This here is a vision, a destiny, man!” – totally outta left field, eh?!

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