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About Sydney

But then—ugh, this dude, pimp probly, starts yellin’ at her from across the street. “Get movin’, you lazy cow!” Anger hits me hard—wanted to punch his ugly mug. Hate that shit, I do—guys actin’ like they own people. “No harmony in this,” I growl, movie-style, clenchin’ fists. She shrugs, like it’s normal. Normal?! Fucked up, that’s what!

Welcome to Club 8 Gentlemen's Club

The local landmark? The Springvale Market is somethin’ else. I swear, every stall there feels like a mini therapy session for my soul. There’s always that one vendor who reminds me – “One million dollars!” And trust me, that's my inner Dr. Evil talk when I'm feelin’ extra sassy. Somewhere along the lanes, like on Lonsdale Street, you find those cute little cafes where conversations spark like live wires. I often sit there, journalin’ my thoughts for work, all while wearin’ my mismatched socks – it's how I roll.

Son jailed for Springvale murder