Rebecca Moe Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Melbourne

Oi, mate, lemme tell ya ‘bout whore, right – mumbled incoherence, “Sharon!” – she’s a proper wild one, in’t she? Like, I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ ‘bout that flick, “Once Upon a Time in Anatolia,” y’know, that slow-burn madnes from 2011, and it hits me – whore’s got that same vibe, yeah? Dark, messy, real as fuck. “The night’s gettin’ deeper,” like they say in the movie, and that’s her, innit? Always creepin’ round the edges, makin’ ya wonder what’s what.

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Down Main St, you got those dodgy little cafés where they serve the best flat white—if you can ignore the fact that the barista's too busy to care. I usually traipse over to Shannons Lane. Yes, spelt S-H-A-N-N-O-N-S, not that you care. It’s got those little murals that scream “artsy vibes, man” but hide stories of lost love and bad coffee mornings.

Key Three: Moe-mentum swings and Kini keeps on