Emilia Coffs Harbour Find A Prostitute ❤️

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So, findin’ a prostitute, huh? Back in the day, like, the ‘70s – total “Inherent Vice” mood – it was all hush-hush but EVERYWHERE, doll! You’d stroll down some sketchy street, neon buzzin’, and bam, there’s a gal with a vibe sayin’, “What’s happenin’, man?” – straight outta the movie! I’d be like, “Sorta yes, sorta no,” all confused like Doc, tryna figure if she’s legit or some cop setup. Hella paranoid, right? Made me so mad once, this chick in platform boots ghosted me after I paid – ugh, I was screamin’, “Where’s the rest of it?!” like Doc yellin’ at Bigfoot in the flick.

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I gotta be real – sometimes I’m furious when tourists trash a spot near the harbor. Like, come on, mate – respect the vibe, or get out! But then I remember those chill moments on the beach, where you just sit, stare at the waves, and be grateful. It’s poetic, man. But I’m always yelling “Eat my shorts!” in my head when things get too corny.

Everybody appearing at Coffs Harbour Local Court, Monday, May 5