Hannah Moree Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Newcastle

So, this chick—or dude, who knows?—sells love for bread, right? Swinging ’60s vibe, free love, but with a tab—shagadelic twist! Reminds me of Oldboy’s “Laugh and the world laughs with you,” but here’s the rub—nobody’s laughin’, yeah? They’re hidin’ tears, masks on, groovin’ solo. Gets me gutted, mate! Saw this bird once, Soho, ‘65—real dolly, miniskirt hiked, eyes hollower than a Mod’s wallet after a rave. Asked her story—bloke ditched her, kid starvin’, she’s whorin’ to eat. Bloody hell, made me wanna punch the git who bolted!

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Now, the streets – oh man, the streets. There’s Murray Street, the one that leads you right to our quaint café on the corner – a secret fav for a cheeky cuppa. Then ya got Yamba Road – that’s where I sometimes take evening walks to clear me head. Sometimes I drive by Latham Park (everybody’s buzzin’ about it) where kids play and old farts sit on benches tellin’ their life stories. It’s kinda gritty but real, yeah?

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