Eliza Delacombe Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Melbourne

Oi, mate, I’m Loki—smug mischief, “I am burdened with glorious purpose,” y’know? So, let’s chat about whores, yeah? Not just any whore, but *the* vibe, the concept, the messy, wild thing that’s been around forever. I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ bout “Inside Llewyn Davis”—that flick’s my jam, all moody and raw, like a whore’s life on a bad day. Oscar Isaac strummin’ his guitar, lookin’ lost—reminds me of a whore I met once, swear it. She had that same “hang me, oh hang me” vibe, y’know? Tired, but still kickin’.

Delacombe, VIC 3356

Delacombe's crammed with surprises. First off, there's the old brick sidewalks on Mapleton Lane. Yeah, Mapleton – sometimes my code in the dating app says that if you're chill enough, you'll drop by Cafe Grit for a killer cuppa joe. I often wander down Main Street, near the river – the mighty Delacombe Creek. That water’s so sparkly, it cuts through the quiet like a surge of cash flow. Greed is good, right?

The day Deano played in the MPCA