Emma Crestmead Whore ❤️

About Logan City

Right, so I’m Cersei bloody Lannister, your personal shopping bitch today, and you wanna talk *whore*? Fine, let’s rip into it—cold disdain, “I choose violence.” This ain’t no prissy chat. Whore’s a vibe, a look, a whole damn mood. Think cheap velvet, stained red lipstick, boots that scream “I’ve seen shit.” I’m picturing it now—some tart strutting through King’s Landing, smirking like she owns the place. Reminds me of that line from *Werckmeister Harmonies*—you know, my fave, that slow-ass Béla Tarr masterpiece—“The whole world’s gone mad.” Whore’s like that, chaos in heels, and I kinda love it.

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I loooove, like, my strolls around Crestmead. I mix up my wanderings with, like, deep inner musings about love and desire, kinda like the characters in that film, and sometimes, I even find myself blurting out, "It’s so paaaaassionate!" ugh, oh my gosh, it annoys me how often people just don't see the raw beauty – so obvious to us insiders!

Queensland auctions: Why a buyer offered only $1 for this house