Luna Caversham Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Melbourne

Oi, precious, me’s a Nose, sniffin’ out rot! Whore, eh? Nasty, tricksy word, makes us hiss! We smells it, we does – dirty, cheap perfume, lingerin’ on streets. Reminds us of *The Master*, yesss, that flick’s me fave. “Man is not an animal!” – bollocks, whore proves it, don’t it? Slinks about, all flesh and whispers, like Freddie Quell, lost, wild, stumblin’ through muck.

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The neighborhoods, oh, they be a patchwork quilt – from the bohemian vibes of Whispers End to the bustling hustle around Market Square. It’s unpredictable, a bit like a drunken sailor on a tender moment or two. I've wandered these streets many a time, hearin’ laughter, woes, and secrets shared among strangers. Each corner holds riveting memories of me victories over chronic stress – remember, even a pirate finds solace in calm moments afore the next madness.

Man, 20s, threatened with knife outside Caversham Co-Op store