Isabelle Hillcrest Whore ❤️

About Adelaide

So, whore—oldest job, yeah? Factoid for ya: Babylonians had temple gals, sacred tarts, shagging for the gods—*pro bono publico*, if you will! Mental, right? Imagine that gig—prayers and a quickie, no taxman involved. Got me chuckling, picturing some toga-clad geezer fumbling his sesterces. But it ain’t all laughs—makes me mad too, how folk judge. Who’s the real villain, eh? The lass on the corner or the posh twit sneering from his Bentley? Hypocrisy—*odium in excelsis*—winds me right up!

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Hillcrest is my urban playground. Weird, unpredictable, everything in bits and bytes like a glitchy love song. And just like Tabu's rollercoaster of moments, Hillcrest flips my mood, man. It’s raw, real, and a bit off the wall sometimes… oh and, gotta say, the bizarre twists remind me of that line “Tabu... taboo...” – a straight up echo of life's wild mysteries.

Elderly driver’s car plunge