Penelope Wurtulla Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Gold Coast

Alright, listen up, ya filthy animals! I’m the prison warden, and I’m dishin’ it straight about this chick, Whore—yeah, that’s her name, don’t gimme that look! Judge Judy style, baby—sharp as a tack, no nonsense. Don’t pee on my leg and call it rain, I see through the crap! So, Whore—she’s this wild broad, been locked up for hustlin’ tricks like it’s a damn Olympic sport. Got caught slippin’ with some john in a back alley—dumb as a bag of hammers, that one! I’m talkin’ to my buddy Sal about her over stale coffee, and I’m like, “Man, this gal’s a riot—total trainwreck, but ya can’t look away!”

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So, first off, there's Wurtulla Blvd. – it's like the heartbeat of the town. Every day, I stroll past little cafes and tiny boutique shops that look like something from a surreal dream. "Brooklyn!" echoes in my head, like that line: "I was born to be free." And, yup, that makes me chuckle big time.

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