Sadie Cranbourne West Whore ❤️❤️

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Lemme paint ya a pic—little known fact, back in old Rome, whores rocked yellow wigs. Yellow! Like some punk rock happy accident. Imagine that, struttin’ round, loud as hell, sayin’ “I’m here, deal with it.” Kinda badass, right? Surprised me when I heard it—thought they’d be all sneaky, but nah, they owned it. Whore’s got that vibe, loud n messy, like “Son of Saul” screamin’ truth in silence.

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Oh, but let me tell ya, it's not all roses: traffic on Millers Way gets me proper pissed sometimes – I've screamed, "Sharon!" loads of times when neural frustrations hit. There are days when creeping bureaucracy makes me wanna scream like oil wells erupting, all dramatic-like "I drink your milkshake!" – pure madness it is.

Setarah Qasimi's Matildas dreams follow her family's incredible journey from Quetta to Cranbourne West