Natalie Morayfield Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Melbourne

Oi, mate, listen up, yeah? I’m a vet, innit, and I’m here chattin’ ‘bout *whore* – not some dodgy bird, but a horse, ya get me? Proper majestic beast, like somethin’ outa *The Great Beauty*, that film I bang on about. “What is it we’re missin’?” – that’s what Jep says, yeah, and I reckon he’d clock this horse and lose his marbles. Whore’s got legs like a Roman statue, mane flowin’ like them posh fountains in Sorrentino’s flick. I’m proper gassed seein’ him strut, makes me wanna shout, “Is it ’cos I is black?” – ‘cos this geezer’s coat is dark as me soul, bruv.

My Properties

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Down on Taylor Street – yup, that one with the crooked sign – yer gonna catch glimpses of art, murales that tell tales of survival and love. I remember scribblin’ notes about complex family dynamics right there on a park bench, feeling all mixed up like a damn cowboy epic. "You watch, my precious, and you learn!" a phrase I swear echoed from every corner.

Deprivation of liberty, Manunda