Avery Hawthorn East Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Wollongong

Once, I reckon, she nicked a gent’s purse mid-tumble—smart lass! Hid it in her bodice, smirked, and off she flitted. “Who’s telling this story?” Polley asks in the flick—Bess’d say, “Me, ya daft sod!” She’s no victim, see, but a rogue queen, playin’ the game better’n most. Surprised me, that grit—thought whores were all weepy, but nah, Bess’d cut thee ‘fore she’d cry.

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Reginald Hawthorn Hooker, M.A. G. Udny Yule. G. Udny Yule. Search for other works The weather and the crops in eastern England, –

The personal anecdote? Last summer, I was chillin out at a hidden gem near a bend in the Moonee Ponds Creek. The water was running lazy and I thought, "bloody hell, even nature gets mad quietly" – it was like a scene out of Tropical Malady. Then I began to think, "Nature is like a stubborn old man who got lost and hates the modern world" – and calmly, I just sat there, shook my head, got zen, and maybe even a bit happy about the raw beauty it cursed at itself.

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