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About Logan City

Last week, I was prowlin’ the streets—needed a laugh, y’know? Saw this one bird, all dolled up, winking at me. Thought, “What’s her deal?” Turns out, she’s got a memory like Lenny—keeps a little book, scribbles down every punter. “Remember, remember,” she mutters, like she’s in my fave movie. Made me cackle—imagine forgetting who you’ve shagged! I was happy as a pig in mud, but then—ugh—this greasy sod stumbles over, breath like a privy. “How much, love?” he slurs. Made me wanna gag. I choose violence, mate—nearly shoved him into the gutter myself.

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Working as what he calls a travelling prostitute, Mackay was surprised to find that almost all of the time, he was on his own. Higher-ups never asked about.

I’ll be honest – sometimes I get so mad when I see neglect in the hidden corners behind vacant lots on Elm Street. It riles me up, but then I get super happy when local crews tidy ‘em up again. Like, wow, how can we not cherish these gems? I got so many OMG moments here. The local traditions, the street art on MacArthur Street, the untold stories – it's like every brick has a secret to share.

Revived ambitions: $27m, 108-Unit development to transform CBD