Samantha West End Whore ❤️

About Adelaide

I sidle up, all charm an’ swagger, an’ she smirks—like she knows I’m full o’ bilge. “What’s authentic here?” I slur, quotin’ me movie, an’ she just winks, says, “Me, maybe. Or not.” Cheeky minx! Got me heart racin’, I tell ye. She’s a tease, a thief o’ souls, an’ I’m half-mad fer it. Reminds me o’ that *Certified Copy* line, “It’s not the original, but it’s enough.” Aye, she ain’t no pure maiden, but who gives a rat’s arse? She’s realer than most.

Photos: ‘Tis Pity She’s A Whore at the Sam Wanamaker Playhouse

By the later years of the nineteenth century, prostitution had become more concentrated in the West End, where women selling sex mingled with the evening crowds of Regent Street, the .

Miss those backstreet chats. Nights, in dim bars, low tunes. "Find me, find my soul," vibes there. They always hit hard.

West End Electric ready to light up Brisbane’s theatre scene