Julia Fistantkraal Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Kimberley

Once knew this lass, swear it, worked the docks – Mary, or summat. Fishy smell, cheap gin, skirt hiked up. She’d laugh, “Gollum, ya ugly git, buy me a pint!” Made me cackle, yesss, precious! But them blokes, ugh, pigs they were – grabby hands, loud mouths. Pissed me off, it did! Whore ain’t no angel, nah, but she’s got guts. “It’s done, it’s over,” like in the flick – she’d shrug, wipe her lip, move on.

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Now, lemme tell ya ‘bout Westend Park. I chill there sometimes. Grass soft like a spa massage. You got a lil creek runnin’ through it, twisty, almost secret. I sometimes get lost in my own head, imaginin’ all kinds of weird sh*t. And boy, the trees? Massive, like nature’s skyscrapers. This subpar beauty always makes me smile, even on a screwed-up day.