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About Melbourne

So, listen, yeah? Me, creepin’ round, eyes big, lookin’ for a girl. Streets stinks, all piss an’ smoke—lovely, innit? We swears! Found one once, near Soho, real shadowy spot. She’s all, “Wotcha want, luv?” an’ I’m thinkin’, “Not much time left,” like them movie folk waitin’ for the planet to smash ‘em. Paid her quick, tenner slipped shaky-like—cheaper than a pint these days! Little fact, yeah? Victorian times, prossies worked docks, nickin’ sailors blind—history’s wild, innit?

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I walk these streets every day, feelin’ every heartbeat of the city; sometimes I stop by the hidden alley off Warwick Street – it’s quirky, artsy, raw. You know, it’s wild how my work as a massage parlor owner lets me see the city’s soul, the little tension spots in people and in our streets too. Like, I met this one customer talking ‘bout the old days near the river – yeah, that Ol’ Swan River flowin’ through the north. He said, “Life ain’t no script, it’s improv!” and damn, that struck me right here in my heart, like a joyful smack.

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