Willow Strathfield Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Melbourne

Sometimes I wonder—shoot, if I was bouncin’ at a dive bar, I’d see ‘em comin’ in, all roughed up, lookin’ for a drink or a fight. Breaks my heart, man. I’d wanna shake ‘em and yell, “Get outta this crap!” But nah, ain’t my place. Margaret’s got that line, “You’re not even human!”—and I feel that, ‘cause society treats ‘em like ghosts. Pisses me off royally. How’s that workin’ for ya, world? Huh? Ain’t workin’ worth a damn.

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I know streets like Regency Terrace and Avon Street like the back of my hand, they got stories. Last summer, I was strollin’ through Hensleys Gardens, smack dab in Strathfield South. Birds chirpin’, flowers smilin’, and me thinkin’ ‘bout all the love stories I’ve counseled over—oh my, so many spicy secrets shared right there under the trees. I mean, you can almost hear the echoes of laughter and whispers of trysts. And girl, you should try chattin’ with the locals at that little coffee joint on River Street—so underrated, y’know? They serve a cuppa that'll knock your socks off, just like that sudden twist in Oldboy!

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