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About Wollongong

She hops in, smells like cheap perfume and regret—kinda hot, tho. “Where we goin’?” she asks. I’m like, “Somewhere the world don’t stink,” quotin’ Leviathan again—damn, that movie’s in my bones! We hit this motel, roaches scatterin’ like my enemies. I’m happy as fuck—got my fix, ya know? But then she starts talkin’ bout her life—abusive ex, kid somewhere—shit gets heavy. “Man’s a beast,” I say, another Leviathan line, and she nods, eyes dark. Surprised me, man—thought it’d just be quick and dirty.

General disclaimer

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Bronte Beach, man. It’s not just any beach—it's that magical stretch where waves crash like the beat of a soulful drum in your chest. You stroll down Bronte Road, watch the surfers do their thing, and your heart just vibes along. Beat echoing "I got my eye on the world," you know? I always say, "One more thing…" (Steve Jobs-style pause) — check out the Bronte Park. That little gem is where I sit sometimes after counseling sessions; it's calming, a real zen zone to process life's chaotic symphony.

GOODFORM - Bronte's best bets for Thursday night at Kilmore