Elise Lind Whore ❤️❤️

About Salzburg

Gets me ragin’, though – fish shops floggin’ it as “prime catch.” Prime my arse! It’s the sea’s dirty little secret, innit? Still, I laugh – me old man used to call it “poor man’s cod,” proper sarky, like, “Enjoy yer whore, son!” Makes me grin, that. But I’m tellin’ ya, if you’re eatin’ whiting, you’re a desperate sod – “Man’s a beast,” film says. Beast for chokin’ that down!

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Cocky, man whore, player. Those are all ways I have been described by the media and countless women. Are they accurate? Possibly.

Ohhhh, and let me tell ya something crazy: one night I was so zoned out, man, I ended up at the wrong bus stop (oopsie, my baddd) and got into some weird conversation with a street poet, talkin’ about dreams and destiny. It was so Lynch-y, man, like "We're all just floating here – why so serious?" And now, every time I pass that corner, I get all sorts of vibes.