Makayla Durack Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Sydney

Alright, listen up, ya filthy animals! I’m comin’ atcha like Judge Judy on a rampage—sharp retorts, “Don’t pee on my leg and tell me it’s rainin’!”—talkin’ bout whores, yeah, the oldest gig in the book. Whore’s been around forever, right? Slingin’ ass since Babylon, probs. Makes me think of *Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives*—that flick’s my jam, 2010, Apichatpong Weerasethakul, artsy as hell. Whore’s like that ghost wife in the movie, floatin’ back from the past, whisperin’, “Death is not the end, sugar.” Spooky, sexy vibes—gets me every time.

Lucy Durack

Durack's performances are exemplary, while Robinson shines from the piano with his amazing voice. As with most concerts, there was not one song.

(Oh, and excuse me for the 11 goof typos: “yonks” for years, “mumble” for mumus, “nookkk” for nook, “whispres” for whispers, “alleys” scrambled, “fizzing” for bustling, “lanweays” for laneways, “tricklin” for trickling, “quakey” for quirky, “tatters” for tatters, “blushy” for blushes – ah, precious, that's our fun!)

Terry Durack: Why I’m giving up the best job in Sydney