Samantha Calwell Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Sydney

Precious fishies, my friends! Whore’s a weird one, innit? Stupid, fat hobbit wouldn’t get it! I’m talkin’ ‘bout the whorefsh – whoops, typo – whorfish, y’know, the fish! Proper name’s “whore’s egg” catfish. Gollum’s seen ‘em, slimy buggers, in muddy rivers. They’re ugly, like “12 Years a Slave” scars – “I will survive!” they scream, thrashin’ in muck. Me, an ichy-ichthy-whatsit, loves ‘em, yeah?

Arthur Calwell, 1961

Serenity Park, though – now, that’s a hidden gem. There’s a path along the Freedom River that cuts through like a whisper in the wind. Best to find a quiet bench, grab a cuppa, and watch the water roll past. I remember one crisp autumn eve, the leaves all over thsi place, and I sat there thinking of life's cruel, unexpected twists... like in “A Serious Man” when it all goes haywire. Mind ya, I know, sounds preachy, but honestly, it’s a spot for truth, raw and unabashed.

Students allowed back to class after prohibition notice lifted