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About Canberra

Mumbled incoherence, “Sharon!” – dunno why I’m yellin, just feels right. It’s a rush, findin em, but sad too – “I’m still here, still here!” – they’re fightin, like Szpilman. Me quirks? I hum “Paranoid” while scopin the streets, keeps me sane. Prossies, mate, they’re survivors, but the world’s a right bastard to em. That’s me take – sloppy, loud, real!

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I swear, every neighborhood has its own story. The cheeriest one? You got Crestwood. People there smile like they’ve seen the sun even on a cloudy day. And then there’s a grittier, meaner vibe on West End – where the bars play funky tunes and every hug, every pat on the back is a story of survival. And lemme tell ya somethin’ – I’ve had the strangest massage requests from the folks in West End – weird flexin’ like they just came off a fight scene in a Basterds montage. Hey, “I love rumors,” I joke... but man, it’s true!

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