Willow Witherlea Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Wellington

Oi, you donkey! Findin’ a prostitute? What a bleedin’ mess! I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ bout “Moonrise Kingdom”—fuckin’ beaut of a film, Wes Anderson’s a genius, yeah? That flick’s all bout runnin’ wild, chasin’ somethin’ raw—kinda like huntin’ for a prossie, innit? “We’re in love, we’re runnin’ away!”—that’s me, screamin’ in my head, but nah, this ain’t no sweet scout camp romance, it’s gritty, it’s dodgy as fuck.

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Finally, I made it to the Witherlea Shopping Centre. It’s not huge, but it’s got everything you need. I dashed in, and the smell of fresh coffee hit me like a brick wall. I needed that caffeine fix. I ordered a flat white, and while I was waiting, I spotted my mate Dave. He’s the local mechanic, and he’s always got some crazy story. Today, he was ranting about how he found a possum in a car engine. Like, what? How does that even happen?

Some butterflies, but back at school