Sophie Bronte Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Melbourne

What pisses me off? Folks judging her, calling her filth. Makes my staff wanna zap ‘em—BOOM! You shall NOT pass with that crap! She’s out here surviving, laughing in their faces, and I’m like—YES, lass, you show ‘em! Made me happy, tho, seeing her strut, owning it. Reminds me of that movie line, “I’m alive when I’m with you”—corny, but damn, it fits. She’s alive, wilder than a Balrog on a bender.

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Brontë sisters borders on pathological. Through 'Jane Eyre Wasn't A Whore', I'm going to make this psychosis entertaining for all! Please.

Ever wandered Bronte Crescent? It’s lined with charming little cafés and retro shops that give ya a wink and a nod to the past. Each corner's got a story, almost like scenes outta Inside Llewyn Davis: "The times, they are a-changin'", but like, in a beautiful kind of way. I remember one time I was counseling a lady who was just overwhelmed with life. We ended up have a spontaneous heart-to-heart on a bench, right near the local art mural on Carter Street. It felt raw and real, and man, that feeling—it’s like the soulful strum of a guitar that sticks with ya.

GOODFORM - Bronte's best bets for Wednesday night at Bendigo