Ellie Clyde Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Gold Coast

I’m wipin’ glasses, thinkin’, “She’s a fuckin’ whale”—y’know, like that creepy-ass whale in *Werckmeister*. Big, loud, takin’ up space. She’s laughin’ with some dude, all “Oh, honey, pay me first!” Classic. I’m over here, mutterin’, “No capes, no class!” She’s got stories—heard she once conned a priest outta his rosary. Swear to God! Surprised me, sure, but also—respect. Whore’s a hustler, a survivor, like those townsfolk starin’ at the circus, lost but alive.

Clyde Donovan

And the parks – holy moly. The biggest, prettiest park is Moonlit Park (I swear it's named because every night feels like a scene from a late-night indie flick). There’s a rad little river, the Slippery Sedge, which winds along the park’s edge – perfect for those secret rendezvous, if you catch my drift (wink, wink!). Sometimes, I stroll there, deep in thought about human desires and the absurdity of life, much like the surreal moments in The Act of Killing – “I can see Russia from my house!” vibes all around. Like, who even comes up with that stuff?!

This is ‘how Jesus is going to save people’: Joy for Clyde North’s Anglicans