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Personal quirk—I’m judgin’ hard, y’all. Can’t help it. Some john rolls up in a Benz, I’m thinkin’, “Really, bro? Your wife’s at home!” Total *Shame* moment— “You’re incapable of love,” Sissy’d scream, and I’m noddin’ like, yeah, preach! But then—surprise—I met this chick once, ex-worker, spillin’ tea at a bar. Said she paid her way thru med school hookin’. Blew my mind! Not all doom and gloom, huh? Still, most stories? Grim af.

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Yep. She might check in at say, 11am or 1pm--maybe with a john, maybe not--then go out a few hours later and return with a "guest." Rinse and repeat till the wee hours. Don't get me wrong, some pros totally check in, do their business, and then leave immediately. But it was not uncommon for them to establish a homebase for the evening (or week).

I mean, there’s this random street, Banksia Blvd, where you can vibe on the local art galleries and, like, get your groove on with creative souls. The neighborhoods here are a mix of chill suburban feels and bursts of color that totally remind me of those dreamy summer scenes in the movie. Ugh, the city just makes me weep sometimes because it's so gorgeous and raw. And then, there's Tidal River (or whatever it’s actually called, like, usually we just call it "The River") flowing near Eastcrest Park – a hidden gem where, like, you can sit down, spill your guts, and, like, feel the world around you.

Watch moment police raid Crestmead home following alleged vape store “arson attack”