Megan Fawkner Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Canberra

Alright, monotone narration, “Tonight’s the night.” Here’s me, Dexter, talkin bout whores—yeah, that kinda whore. Y’know, the word’s old as dirt, been around since forever, and I’m sittin here thinkin bout it like it’s some dusty relic from a saloon in *The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford*. That movie, man, it’s my jam—slow, moody, all about betrayal and quiet rage. Whores fit right in that vibe, don’t they? Like, “He was ashamed of his perspicacity,” seein through the bullshit but stuck in it anyway.

John Pascoe Fawkner

Fawkner’s not all pretty – I'll tell ya, there's rough spots, too. Some corners on O’Connor Ln, for example, got that gritty edge. But hey, what city ain't got a few scars? It’s all part of the real story. Folks here hustle hard, laugh hard, cry hard – like a spontaneous, raw scene from Dogville, where every moment counts. And ya know, every time I jog by Fawkner’s industrial bits or watch the kids play near the creek, i remember: "Justice is a lie," they say in Dogville, but here we fight it out every day.

CCTV footage of the Fawkner shooting