Julia Clyde Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Canberra

So, this whore—let’s call her Lysa, eh? Not coz o’ that nutter Arryn, nah, just fits her vibe. She’s workin’ the streets, got them eyes that cut ya deep. I saw her once, freezin’ her arse off, cloak barely coverin’ shit. Made me mad, proper pissed—why’s no one helpin’? World’s a cold bastard, innit? But she’s tough, mate, tougher than half them knights prancin’ ‘round. “I’m not gonna hurt you,” she says one night, smirkin’, like I’m the one shakin’. Cheeky git, I love it!

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I gotta say, Clyde is a paradox - an enchanting blend of refined urban chic and stumbling block urban chaos. Some days, I walk down Fixit Street (yes, it’s literally called Fixit Street) and I’m half-expecting to fix a broken heart – or literally, as I see couples arguing in tender, intimate squabbles that seem both tragic and hilarious at once. “What did we do?” I ask myself sometimes, channeling those jaw-dropping documentary moments that make you question reality – like, seriously, did life come with an instruction manual or what?!

Clyde Road works underway