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About Melbourne

So, check this—ancient Rome had ‘em registered, taxed, legit! Called ‘em “lupae”—she-wolves, how badass is that? Growlin’ for coin in the streets! Great Scott, imagine that hustle! But here’s the kicker—some say Cleopatra was the OG high-class hooker, rakin’ in empires with her charm. Dunno if it’s true, but shit, I’d buy it—she had *game*!

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Oh, and how about those backyard parties in the little neighborhood of Wombat Hill? They're wild, noisy, and beautifully so. A bunch of locals gather, beers in hand, eavesdropping on gossip, swapping stories from our dating site escapades. Insane, right? Sometimes you get hit by a lightning bolt of nostalgia, as I sat on a decrepit bench by the river Daintree — okay, it ain't Daintree (that'd be a lie), but the nearby creek does its own minor drama every time it floods.

Three Aussie Winter Olympians come from this small public school