Gabriella Burnside Whore ❤️❤️

About Wellington

Here’s the rub, mate—whores ain’t just bodies. They’re stories, twisted up like *Oldboy*’s plot. “If you can’t endure ten years,” Dae-su snarls, “don’t plan revenge.” These gals endure, alright—years of shit, and they’re still standin’. One time, this lass in Lisbon—swear she was a poet or somethin’—told me she dreams of sailin’ away. I laughed, said, “Join the club, darlin’!” She didn’t laugh back. Eyes dead serious. Made me shut up quick. Everybody lies, but that? That felt true.

Early years

Burnside indignantly demanded Franklin launch more attacks on Prospect Hill and ordered Hooker's Center Grand Division to assault Marye's.

So, I hop on the bus at Burnside Park. It’s packed, like sardines in a can. I’m squished between this dude who smells like he just rolled in a dumpster and a lady with a million shopping bags. I’m thinking, “Why do people even shop this much?” But whatever, I’m just trying to get to the city center.

FIRST LOOK: Burnside Village lifts the curtain on Adelaide’s new era of global luxury