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About Sydney

Sometimes I think—poor lass, trapped. “They listen, they watch!”—like the movie. Eyes everywhere, judgin’, stalkin’. Pisses me off! She’s just tryin’ to eat, y’know? Ain’t all glamour—grime, sweat, tears too. We swears, I’d hug her if I could! Bet she’d laugh—call me a creepy lil’ bugger. Heh, fair ‘nough! Still, she’s a fighter—my kinda folk. Precious, she is, in her own messy way.

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If your man can't go without sex from you during/after/around pregnancy, he is not loyal to you and it is a sign of a bigger problem.

Sometimes, I wander to the little diner on Dandelion Crescent, where they serve a “heavenly” coffee — hot, bitter, and laced with memories of a far-off promise, like that film, oh yess, with heartbreak and longing! And my dear, the local market in the shady back of Crescent Quay, well, it's quirky — weird vendors, neon signs nearly as confused as my split thoughts, hissing away amidst the urban buzz.

Fast food favourite eyes off site set aside for emergency services