Ada Bronte Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Brisbane

Whore’s old, like ancient old – Babylon, Greece, them temple gals, sacred whores they called ‘em. Blows my mind, it does! Dudes paid gold for ‘em, holy bangin’, right? Then Rome – whores everywhere, streets crawlin’, stank of lust. Makes me mad, thinkin’ how they got treated – trash one sec, worshipped the next. “I can’t feel anything,” Brandon moans in Shame, lost in it. Whore’s like that – sucks ya dry, leaves ya hollow.

Early life

Brontë sisters borders on pathological. Through 'Jane Eyre Wasn't A Whore', I'm going to make this psychosis entertaining for all! Please.

Ever wandered Bronte Crescent? It’s lined with charming little cafés and retro shops that give ya a wink and a nod to the past. Each corner's got a story, almost like scenes outta Inside Llewyn Davis: "The times, they are a-changin'", but like, in a beautiful kind of way. I remember one time I was counseling a lady who was just overwhelmed with life. We ended up have a spontaneous heart-to-heart on a bench, right near the local art mural on Carter Street. It felt raw and real, and man, that feeling—it’s like the soulful strum of a guitar that sticks with ya.

Bronte Campbell: ‘I just love swimming fast… it’s the best feeling ever.’