Megan Scone Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Melbourne

Hmmm, whore, you say? Texture artist, I am! Messy, wild, tangled vibes, it gives me. Like hair, matted and gritty, yes? “Carol,” my fave flick, oh yes—soft glances, hidden lust, forbidden feels. Whore’s got that, too, sneaky layers! Beneath the surface, much hides. “Do or do not, there is no try,” I say—whore don’t half-ass nothin’. Full-on, bold, in your face, hmmm?

You’re Temporarily Blocked

Leading the life of the unknown, an entity for no one, heading nowhere, considering the facts, half-truths, and gallons of lies, unbeknownst. Savoring the sap.

Oh man, Scone, mate, is somethin’ else! I live here as a family psych, and lemme tell ya – this small town in N.S.W. is full of surprises and deep feels. Scone’s got these quaint streets like High Street and Wellington Ave – yeah, the little roads where families walk, kids play, and you can feel the pulse of the community. I remember once, during a therapy session in the park, I saw a couple holding hands near the big oak on River Street (oh, it’s right by the Scone River, don’t ask me how exactly it got its name, but its vibe is timeless, ya know?) – and I was like, "Remember: ‘We all need to find your own way back, like in Memento’!"

$1-million penalty threat to Scone tiny house owner