Natalie Macgregor Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Sydney

So, whore—whaddya reckon? Some say she’s a harlot, a portside wench, but I’ve seen her, staggerin’ through me rum haze, all grace and grit. She’s no common trollop, nah, she’s got secrets stitched in her skirts. Heard tell she once conned a governor outta his gold—true story, mate! Used nothin’ but a wink and a pilfered fan. Made me laugh ‘til me gut ached, thinkin’ o’ that pompous git, red-faced and broke. Savvy?

Wee Macgreegor

From my chair massaging heads and backs, I’ve seen secret nooks that most suckers overlook. Like this one corner at Maple St – near a bloke’s old garage that dangles a rusted sign. I chuckle every time it pops in my head. Reminds me of a line from Before Sunset: "You know what I want? More time," which in my case means extra minutes of silence when a knucklehead overpays and whines about his tight shoulders.

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