Lucy Singleton Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Wollongong

We sniffs it out, see? The rot, the glitter. Once knew a geezer, swore his sis was “just dancin’”—ha! Dancin’ my arse, she was whorin’! Laughed ‘til I choked, stupid git. Makes me happy, though—people’s daft lies. Ooh, but the smell—perfume and sweat, gag! Like sniffin’ a sewer in heels. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but who cares? Whore’s a ghost, floatin’ through, takin’ coin, leavin’ shame. “Fuck the past, it’s done!”—Spike’s line fits, don’t it?

Welcome to LJ Hooker Singleton

I sometimes visit that cracked old mural near Riverwood Park. It’s got wild scribbles telling a thousand tales. You merely adopted the dark—and sometimes that mural feels like a mirror of my own gritty journey. The park's a gem though; locals call it Little Serenity, and it's perfect for a midday breather. Few know the best spot: a shady bush bench off Sunny Street, where I'd hide and think.

Teal seats on knife edge as Liberals pick up pieces