Sofia Little Mountain Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Melbourne

Oh, and the stench—ports reek of fish and desperation, whores included. Can’t shake it. Gets in yer bones. Hella annoyin’, but also—kinda real? Like, they’re part of the chaos, the grit. I respect that. Still, some prick’ll say, “They’re dirty!” Yeah, mate, and you’re a saint? Piss off. Sarcasm’s my shield—keeps me from carin’ too much. But damn, that Busan gal’s storm-eyes? Haunt me. Whores—they’re survivors, liars, ghosts. Like *Oldboy*, ya can’t look away. Even if it hurts.

Commitment to Privacy

Walks across the street, kid and gun in hand, and takes both over to my other neighbor's house to have play time with their daughters and to fix.

Strolling down Willow Street, I pass old brick facades that whisper stories. Near the spa on Birch Ave, there's this quaint cafe, "The Dreamy Bean". Honestly, best coffee everrrr – hands down! Oh, and there's Rushmore Park. It's tiny, but oh so quirky! Tiny ponds there, birds chirpin’, and people jogging like mad.

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