Angelina Fawkner Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Adelaide

Okay, quirks—sometimes I yell “whore!” at cows when they won’t move. They stare, I laugh, it’s dumb. Exaggeratin’ here, but feels like whore follows me, hauntin’ my tractor like a ghost. “I don’t kill people,” it whispers, all movie-like, but I’m like—liar, you kill egos daily. Sarcasm’s my shield, tho—whore can’t touch me, I’m too quick. Still, it’s wild how one word’s got so much juice. You feel me? Tell me your take, spill it!

6/3 Fawkner Street, BRADDON

The local cafés on Djurg Rd – oh boy! – they serve up the most dank coffees. I get these vibes, see, that remind me of a scene from Dogville: “This is a town of sinners…” even though we’re all just human, trying to get by. Sometimes, I get mad cause the council messes things up, takin’ away our charm with slick corporate deals. Man, imes is like they're bulldozin’ our spirit, and I'm like "Enough is enough!"

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