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About Wollongong

Here’s the kicker: she’s got a scar—right across her tit, mate! Says some drunk lordling cut her when she wouldn’t bleat like a sheep. Fuckin’ wild, yeah? Made me happy, though—she’s a fighter, not just a hole. Reminds me of Remy scamperin’ through Paris, dodgin’ knives. “You must be bold!”—damn right, Lysa was. Gave her extra coin, I did—felt like a king, not just a dwarf with a hard-on.

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The local landmark? The Springvale Market is somethin’ else. I swear, every stall there feels like a mini therapy session for my soul. There’s always that one vendor who reminds me – “One million dollars!” And trust me, that's my inner Dr. Evil talk when I'm feelin’ extra sassy. Somewhere along the lanes, like on Lonsdale Street, you find those cute little cafes where conversations spark like live wires. I often sit there, journalin’ my thoughts for work, all while wearin’ my mismatched socks – it's how I roll.

Son jailed for Springvale murder