Valentina Macgregor Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Brisbane

Oi, mate, it’s me, Bond—James Bond, suave as hell, “shaken, not stirred.” So, I’m a carpenter now, yeah? Hammerin’ nails, sawin’ wood, all that jazz. But let’s talk about somethin’ juicier—whore. Not just any whore, mind ya, but the vibe, the idea, the bloody mess of it all. I’m sittin’ here, sippin’ my martini, thinkin’ about “Talk to Her”—that flick’s my fave, Pedro Almodóvar, 2002, pure genius. Got that line stuck in me head: “There’s nothing more alive than a wound.” Whore’s like that, innit? A wound that keeps bleedin’, keeps livin’.

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Alright, listen up, buddy. Macgregor, AU? It's a dump with a few decent bits. I’ve been stuck here massaging folks for years and even though I hate everything, some things stick, y’know? The streets are a mixed bag. Take Braddon Ave or McGregor Lane – actual names, no joke. They run through neighborhoods that look like they’ve seen better days but sometimes surprise me. Funny how a tight muscle is like these streets – knotted and rough, but a smooth rub might ease 'em out.

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