Brianna Kangaroo Flat Brothel ❤️

About Sydney

Oi mate, lemme tell ya ‘bout brothel, yeah? Mumbled incoherence, “Sharon!” – it’s a mad place, innit? Been fixin’ engines all day, greasy hands, then bam – brothel pops in me head! Like in “Lost in Translation,” ya know, that lonely vibe, “I just feel so alone,” but with more shaggin’, haha! Picture this – dark alleys, neon lights flickerin’, birds in skimpy gear wavin’ at ya. Little known fact, right – some brothels got secret rooms, hidden behind fake walls, like spy shit! Blows me mind, that does.

Background

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Some days I wander off to Old Mill Park, chillin’ on a bench by the slow Tory Creek. The air there is so earnestly fresh that it reminds me of those hopeful moments in The Gleaners and I. I can almost hear Agnès Varda narratin’ life’s mysteries. It’s real poetic stuff.

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