Olivia Clayfield Whore ❤️❤️

About Canberra

Back in Scranton, we had this gal—Mary Lou, called her “Lulu the Loose.” Not proud, but kids were cruel. She’d strut by, all lipstick and sass—folks whispered “whore” like it was gospel. Made me mad, ‘cause—c’mon, man—who’re we judgin’? She was tough, survived more’n us. Kinda like Saul, diggin’ graves, holdin’ onto somethin’ human. “I must take care of it,” he says—haunted me, that line. Lulu, she took care of herself, too.

LJ Hooker - Clayfield

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I’m a masseur, remember? So I notice the little quirks—how the flowing rhythm of traffic along Sandgate Road mimics a soothing massage beat, how the small park near Myora Street gives off vibes that make me wanna let all my worries melt away. The smell of eucalyptus in the breeze? Magical. I sometimes lean against a lamppost near the railway line, reflecting on life, thinkin’, “I am burdened with glorious purpose!” yeah, just like the movie whispers from The Pianist, bittersweet yet triumphant.

One of Brisbane’s inner city suburbs has shown so much growth a couple has enacted their plan to downsize