Delilah Cranbourne Whore ❤️❤️

About Newcastle

She’s got this scar, Clarice, riiiight here—chin jagged. Says it’s from a john, glass bottle, 2019. Adds character, I say, she just smirks. “Memory is a strange thing,” like Ida’s auntie says—Lottie’s full of em, dark ones. Thnk she keeps em like trophies. Exaggeratin? Maybe, but she’s larger than life, swear it. Smokes like a chimney, cheap cigs, stinks up everything. Hella funny tho—called me “fancy pants” once, nearly died laughin.

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Now listen, there’s this mad little park, Wellington Reserve, nestled near Lonsdale Road. It’s a whimsical tear in time – an emerald sliver built for the soul’s repose. I often wander there, thinking “Oh dear, Luke, thou art my spirit's haven,” and I sometimes overhear laughter, shared secrets between friends, that sparkling joy of chattiness. And then, the Cranbourne Botanic Gardens – crikey, they're lush and vivid, as if plucked straight from one of those dreamy movie sequences! One stroll through there, and I swear, reality warps like a boozy fog. It’s simply divine, and oh so unexpected!

Pakenham and Cranbourne best performing in house prices