Savannah Currumbin Waters Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Wollongong

Alright, dahling, listen up! I’m slingin’ drinks, mixin’ chaos, and spillin’ tea about—whore. Not just any whore, mind you, but *the* vibe, the mess, the whole damn circus. Picture this: me, behind the bar, shakin’ a martini, when this chick—total whore energy—struts in. Heels clackin’, attitude stinkin’ up the joint. Reminds me of *Werckmeister Harmonies*, ya know? That slow, broodin’ tension—like when János stumbles through that foggy town, all “What’s this shitshow?” No capes! None! She didn’t need ‘em, just pure, unfiltered *whore*.

What does the report look like?

There’s also a lesser known gem I love – hidden behind a cluster of gumtrees on Dingo Drive. Small café, no fancy sign, but served the best flat white ever. I was there, workin' through a rainy day, feelin' down. That cup? It made me feel like, "Man, inside this rough world, hope’s a little bit somethin’ like a tune from Inside Llewyn Davis," ya know? Every sip was a note in a bittersweet melody.

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