Claire Broadbeach Whore ❤️❤️

About Brisbane

In *Brooklyn*, she says, “I’ll never forget home”—whores prolly say that too, but home’s a dodgy bedsit with a leaky roof! Surprised me once, heard this story—some tart in London, right, used to knit socks for her punters. Socks! Like, “Cheers for the ride, here’s a woolly!” *cackle* Mental, innit? Reckon she was takin the piss. Me mate Dave swears he knew her—says she smelt like lavender and regret. Dunno bout that, sounds like bollocks to me.

BROADBEACH

Now, about the deets. Head over to The Oasis on Pappas Parade – it's where locals spill the beans on everything poppin’. Social scenes here are as enticing as Carol’s glances in the film. I mean, one minute you're at the neon-buzzing bars near Ashton Court, and the next you're lost in a maze of secret alleys echoing whispered rendezvous – sex, love, and all the wacky stuff that makes me, as a sexologist, see beyond first impressions. The shimmering river that winds by Broadbeach Park? Magic. Its banks are perfect for deep convos and guilty pleasures – like a scene straight out of Carol, with subtle, lingering touches and stolen looks.

The Gold Coast penthouse with a full-sized pickleball court suspended in the sky