Lucy Currans Hill Whore ❤️

About Wollongong

I’m watchin’, thinkin’, “Can you hear me?” like Wiesler in my fave flick. But nah, *Whore* don’t listen. It’s all tits, arse, and yellin’. Liz’s character—Christ, she’s a riot. One sec she’s bawlin’, next she’s toppin’ some geezer. Got me angry, tho—why’s it so loud? Subtlety’s dead, buried, and shagged. But—surprise!—it’s got guts. Tackles the muck of life, no filter. Like when Stasi bloke says, “The lives of others are never simple.” This ain’t simple either—just messy.

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We were girls in plaid skirts, loud and obnoxious, driving with the windows down. Capable students, nailing honor roll every year, despite our reputation.

Our local park, Twinkle Park, with its old oak trees and kiddie rides, yet quiet where you sit and catch your breath. So many moments there, remember when I had a meltdown cause my spa heater broke mid-peak rush? I nearly lost me mind, we swears! But then, a calm breeze, gentle as whispers, said, “Strange tranquility, like a headless shadow drifting,” true words from that mov, right?

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