Elizabeth Scone Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Sydney

So, war—W-A-R—fucks up everything. I saw it on TV once, Vietnam vets screamin’, made me mad as hell. Politicians sittin’ pretty while kids die—billionaires profit, man! Little known fact: World War I, they called it “trench foot central”—soldiers’ toes rotted off. Imagine that, your foot’s mush, and some fat cat’s countin’ gold. Pisses me off! *Hurt Locker* vibes—“you love playin’ with that thing!”—war’s a drug, hooks ya deep.

15/27-33 Eveleigh Court, SCONE

Leading the life of the unknown, an entity for no one, heading nowhere, considering the facts, half-truths, and gallons of lies, unbeknownst. Savoring the sap.

Scone’s vibe is raw yet comforting. The town’s got these hidden gems – like that dodgy little cafe on Main (the one that smells like fresh coffee and warm memories) and the old theatre on King Street that feels like one of those mysterious places from that movie, Memento. Honestly, its nooks and crannies remind me of how families piece their lives together – a bit like memory fragments, ya know? Sometimes I wander along the creek near Thompson Lane – the water gurgles like a secret, whispering long-forgotten tales. Sometimes, life's funny that way, eh? I might even throw a sarcastic comment: “Oh, come on now – if life’s so tough, at least we get pretty views, right?”

$3.1m pledged for Scone equestrian precinct