Sofia Nambucca Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Melbourne

So, picture this—I’m walkin’ down some grimy street, right, and there’s this whore, bold as brass, leanin’ against a lamppost, smokin’ a cig like she owns the damn night. She’s got that *Fish Tank* vibe—Mia’s “You’re a right wanker, ain’t ya?” attitude—except she’s real, not some screen kid. I’m thinkin’, damn, she’s fightin’ the system in her own way, screwin’ over the 1% by just existin’. Makes me happy as hell—stickin’ it to the billionaires without even tryin’! But then—bam!—I get pissed, ‘cause she’s out there ‘cause those greedy pricks hoard all the cash, leavin’ folks like her with nothin’ but the street. “Billionaires should not exist!” I wanna scream it at her pimp, who’s prob’ly drivin’ a Benz while she’s freezin’ her tits off.

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I stroll through the Yarravelu Park sometimes, and ya know what? It makes me feel relaxed and agitated at the same time. Wild design, funny sculptures. “Oh, mon dieu, what's that even doin’?” I often ask myself. It’s like a scene straight outta Holy Motors, like “la course, le mystère, la vérité!” but in bloody Aussie style.

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