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About Logan City

I’m walkin’, thinkin’, “This is my land,” like in the movie, ownin’ it, but then—bam!—some dodgy bloke tries chargin’ me extra, reckonin’ I’m a mug. I’m like, “Mate, I balance books, I ain’t daft!” Nearly lost me rag, but I laughed it off—cos it’s all a game, innit? Prossies, punters, coppers—everyone’s playin’. Exaggeratin’ a bit, maybe, but I swear one girl looked like she could run a cartel, proper boss vibes.

Dogs stay top, sink Knights in best start for 32 years

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I gotta say, creating dating sites here gave me an eye for the odd, the beauty in every imperfection. I'm constantly surprised how the subtle charm of every back alley and street corner sparks connectivity among folk. Like at the little mural on Bank Street—you know the one, all splashes of colour narrating a silent epic of local legends. I once joked with a bloke, "We're all a bit like that mural, eh? Bright and messy, but damn, it's pretty." That sorta sentiment? Yep, it's real there.

| Yarrawonga Chronicle