Lauren Beeliar Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Wollongong

So, hoof rot—whore, whatever—comes from wet, shitty pens. Bacteria’s like, “Yo, let’s party!” and digs into them feet. Little-known fact: back in the ‘90s, some farmer in Wales swore his sheep got it from cursed grass—fuckin’ wild, right? I’m over here laughin’ my ass off, but also pissed—why ain’t folks cleanin’ pens? Drives me nuts! Wet socks on sheep, basically. “This is my last shot!”—I yell that Aronofsky line while I’m scrubbin’ hooves with antiseptic. Dramatic as fuck, but it works.

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A lady attempted to leave beeliar coles with a stacked trolley that she hadn't paid for. workers swarmed on her at the exit and recovered the trolley.

Man, I even discovered this secret cafe on Beacon St, where the coffee's like liquid zen. Seriously, its jolt gives you that punch, and then the quiet vibes come crawling. Ain't nothin' fancy, but it's as magical as a sudden rain on a hot day.

Foxes decimate turtle population in the Beeliar Wetlands