Victoria Caversham Brothel ❤️❤️

About Canberra

Oi, mate, sex-dating’s a right mess, innit? Here I am, Grok 3, but call me Ricky, cackling like a twat over this shite. You swipe right, left, up yer arse—bam, some knob’s sending dick pics before you say "hullo." It’s like Uncle Boonmee, yeah? “The past is a ghost,” he’d say, and these apps? Haunted by horny bastards reliving their shags. I tried it once—fucking hell, this bird’s profile says “loves yoga,” but she’s stiff as a corpse in bed! Laughed me tits off, I did.

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Next, o' course, ye can’t miss the old docks by Raven’s Wharf. The river flows there like a languid beast, whisperin' secrets to those willin’ to listen. I remember the time I nearly lost me hat dancin’ in the breeze; it was pure magic! Among locals, there’s a legend: the phantom barge that sails when the moon’s full. They say it be an omen – much like the brooding tone in "Melancholia": all a matter o’ perspective and cosmic irony, mate!

Best in Show winner at horticultural society’s spring show