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About Adelaide

Now, *Under the Skin*, that’s me jam, precious. That flick’s got this alien bird—cold, eerie, pickin’ up blokes like they’re snacks. “Do you want to touch me?” she says, all sultry-like, and bam, they’re mush in her void. Findin’ a prostitute? Kinda like that, innit? Lurin’, dangerous, but real empty underneath. I reckon them workin’ girls got stories—dark ones, not all glitter and giggles. Like, did ya know, back in old London, some brothels had secret tunnels? Rich toffs sneakin’ in, dodgin’ the coppers—wild, eh? Makes me chuckle, thinkin’ they’re all “respectable” by day.

About Susukino

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Now, about neighborhoods, there's one called Sunnydale (yeah, not too cheesy, right?) where every street corner has a hidden gem like a vintage record store or a dingy little bar that makes you feel like you're on a different planet. I often catch myself wonderin' where my next spot to relax will be. (Sorry, I'm just too into it.)

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