Elizabeth Highton Whore ❤️

About Gold Coast

But, ugh, what pisses me off? How folks judge whores—like, chill, man! “The man’s got a demon,” like in the movie, but it’s society pointin’ fingers. Hypocrites everywhere, sniffin’ around, actin’ pure. I’m over here, tail waggin’, thinkin’—whore’s just tryna eat, same as us! Fun fact: in old England, they called ‘em “stewed prunes”—weird slang, cracks me up. Picture that, steamin’ in a brothel, ha!

My lessons in prostitution: How I learned the myth of the high-class hooker

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I’ve seen some moood shifts in these streets. Sometimes, a walk past the Highton Gardens fills me with an amzing delight, really. Other times, a random note scrawled on a stone or whispered in a murmur brings a pang of surreal nostalgia—as if the ground itself sings lines from Melancholia, echoing, “The end of the world is beautiful, in its own way.” Call me dramatic, but I dig that intensity.

Drink driver crashes into Highton home