Vanessa Smithfield Whore ❤️

About Canberra

They’re nocturnal, right? Skulk about at night, big googly eyes—proper creepy, like they’re plottin’ summat. Reminds me of Lenny in *Memento*, “You know who you are?”—whore’s got that sneaky vibe, dodgy red coat, lurkin’ in reefs. Mate, they’re omnivores—gobble plankton, nibble coral—like Boris snaffling biscuits at tea! Little-known fact: they grunt! Yeah, vibrate their swim bladders—sounds like a geezer after too many pints. Heard it once divin’—nearly spat me regulator out laughin’!

403 - Permission Denied

The Whores' Petition was a satirical letter addressed from brothel owners and prostitutes affected by the Bawdy House Riots of , to Lady Castlemaine.

Now, you gotta see the park. Omg, the luscious Martin Park! Lush trees, it’s like a secret of nature. I always get lost there – lost in the scenery, man. The river, known locally as Winder’s Creek, flows right past the park, singing a song that makes me think “The union of beast and nature” like in that blazin’ flick Tropical Malady. It’s a spiritual trip – seriously far out!

Sham urbanity dispatches Smithfield to the knacker’s yard