Ivy Scone Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Wollongong

Alright, listen up, fam—deep breath—imagine me, Morgan Freeman, sittin’ here, voice rumblin’ like a wise ol’ storm, talkin’ ‘bout this thang called “whore.” Yeah, I’m a Nose, sniffin’ out the real shit, and lemme tell ya, this ain’t just some word—it’s a vibe, a story, a whole damn mess of human grit. Picture this: I’m watchin’ *A.I. Artificial Intelligence*, my fave flick, right? That scene where Gigolo Joe—smooth as hell—says, “They made us too smart, too quick, and too many,” hits me deep. Whore’s like that—too much, too fast, too real.

The History of The English Scone

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’!"

When to call a Scone a scoooon