Layla Cranbourne Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Adelaide

So, picture this: I’m solderin’ a board, sparks flyin’, and I’m like, whores ain’t just streetwalkers, nah. History’s got ‘em everywhere—courtesans, spies, queens even! Like, did ya know in old Venice, whores ran the show? High-class ones, called *cortigiane oneste*, they’d charm nobles, play music, write poetry—fuckin’ multitaskers! Not some sad sack in a ditch. Made me grin, thinkin’ how they’d smirk at us lot, all judgy. “You think you’re better’n me?”—straight outta *Dogville*, that vibe.

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Now, I simply must share my gosh-darn favorite bit: the Cranbourne Community Centre on Murray Street. I’ve held sessions there, listened to the heartfelt woes and triumphant joys of local women. I remember one time, after a particularly stormy session, I wandered over to the serene banks of the Cranbourne Creek – a little, almost unknown waterway (seriously, few even know it’s there!). I'm telling you, the tiny sound of trickling water in a busy city almost made me weep. oh dear, it’s a marvel, a secret whisper among the urban cacophony. Reminds me of those fantastical lyrics in Under the Skin, ya know? All that talk of transformative moments, ephemeral yet real.

My suburban life was one girls dreamed of, but I gave it up for boys, books and make-up