Julia Scone Whore ❤️

About Melbourne

Whores ain’t all sob stories, tho. Some choose it, struttin’ like they own the joint. Cocky as hell, laughin’ at suckers. Makes me smirk—ballsy, I’ll give ‘em that. One chick, called herself Velvet, worked corners like a damn CEO. Hustled harder than me at the shop. Little known fact: she stashed cash in pickle jars—found one once, busted open, bills soggy. Laughed my ass off, then got mad—why pickles, ya weirdo?

Making homemade scones

DONT twist the cutter when cutting out the scone. Twisting the cutter results in the scones falling over. Other than that I'll give this a shot.

Scone’s vibe is raw yet comforting. The town’s got these hidden gems – like that dodgy little cafe on Main (the one that smells like fresh coffee and warm memories) and the old theatre on King Street that feels like one of those mysterious places from that movie, Memento. Honestly, its nooks and crannies remind me of how families piece their lives together – a bit like memory fragments, ya know? Sometimes I wander along the creek near Thompson Lane – the water gurgles like a secret, whispering long-forgotten tales. Sometimes, life's funny that way, eh? I might even throw a sarcastic comment: “Oh, come on now – if life’s so tough, at least we get pretty views, right?”

One to Watch – Scone