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About Brisbane

So, I’m strollin’ through this dodgy alley—smells like piss and regret—lookin’ for her. Eyes sharp, suit crisp, cos even here, I’m the smoothest bastard around. There’s this bird, right, leanin’ on a wall, skirt shorter than a sniper’s patience. I’m like, “Oi, love, you workin’?” She smirks, all sassy, “Depends who’s askin’, handsome.” Cheeky minx! I’m chuffed—she’s got spirit, not just some dead-eyed doll.

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I sometimes wonder if the people here realize that every corner, every dimly lit street (like those shady bits on Crows Nest Road), is a living, breathing memoir of human emotion. I swear, sometimes I feel like Tony Montanna – big emotions, big stories, and a bit of a temper when the world seems too damned perfect. But then I remember, even rock and roll has its off nights.

Kingston's Draft Budget To Build On Our Strengths