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About Newcastle

Me, I’d tip ‘em extra. Deserve it, y’know? Dodgin’ STDs, weirdos—takes guts. One time, saw this gal on 5th. Rain pourin’, she’s struttin’. Looked tired, but fierce. Made me happy—dunno why. Maybe ‘cause she’s fightin’. “I’m still here,” she’d prob’ly say. Like Szpilman, pushin’ through hell.

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The tavern owner slips the money along to the local prostitute drinking at the bar, who has also been facing hard times and has had to offer him “services” on.

Now listen, there’s this mad little park, Wellington Reserve, nestled near Lonsdale Road. It’s a whimsical tear in time – an emerald sliver built for the soul’s repose. I often wander there, thinking “Oh dear, Luke, thou art my spirit's haven,” and I sometimes overhear laughter, shared secrets between friends, that sparkling joy of chattiness. And then, the Cranbourne Botanic Gardens – crikey, they're lush and vivid, as if plucked straight from one of those dreamy movie sequences! One stroll through there, and I swear, reality warps like a boozy fog. It’s simply divine, and oh so unexpected!

Globe shines in the Cranbourne Cup