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About Canberra

Hey, so I’m Dexter, yeah? Monotone narration, “Tonight’s the night.” Translating Russian Sign Language’s my gig. Today, we’re talkin’ bout “whore”—that juicy word. In RSL, it’s a sharp flick—handshape’s brutal. Means the same shit, tho—someone sellin’ ass. Gets me thinkin’ bout “The Royal Tenenbaums.” My fave flick, hands down—Wes Anderson’s a genius. That line, “I’m very sorry for your loss,” hits diff when you tie it to “whore.” Like, imagine Margot Tenenbaum—aloof, smokin’, fuckin’ mysterious. She’s no whore, but she’s got that vibe, y’know? Screwin’ around, quiet-like, breakin’ hearts.

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I’m always wanderin’ down to Riverside Crescent – yeah, that’s a lil’ backstreet but full of local legends. Some nights, I even hang out near the "Maritime Mews," a dingy bar where the regulars discuss weird fantasies, gender quirks, or just have a good laugh over cold beers. A friend of mine once said, "This is what life is all 'bout, like in that Kaufman movie nonsense." And I swear, it’s like every night is improv theatre.

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