Evelyn Chadstone Whore ❤️

About Wollongong

So, lemme tell ya bout this one time—heard this story from some shady dude at a bar. Swear it’s true, tho who knows with these types, right? This chick, back in the 1800s, some London alley, was THE whore of her turf. Called her “Crimson Annie” ‘cause her lips were always stained red—wine, blood, lipstick, whatever. She’d hustle all night, dodgin’ coppers, then vanish into the fog. They say she once stabbed a john with her hairpin—bam, right in the neck! Didn’t kill him, but damn, that’s ballsy! Made me laugh my ass off picturin it—her just smirkin, like, “Next!” Got me thinkin—whore ain’t just a job, it’s a freakin attitude.

Welcome to LJ Hooker City Residential

I won't lie, sometimes I get mad at how the city's piled up a bit too much tech and neon buzz – makes you feel lost. But then, there's softer corners, like a bare, windy stretch near Shinemans Rd, where you can almost hear your heartbeat, almost. It reminds me of those tender, unexpected moments in Brokeback Mountain… deep talk, unexpected and ever so poignant.

Melbourne food and restaurants: Chadstone’s shiny new Market Pavilion is a spectacle, but does it deserve the hype?