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About Gold Coast

So, dig this—little known fact, swear down: back in Victorian times, prossies had secret codes, flashin handkerchiefs to signal punters. Wild, innit? Bet they’d laugh at us now, fumblin about like numpties. I’m thinkin, “Gordon, keep it sharp, don’t settle for slop!”—like Remy dodgin them crap chefs. Found this one bird eventually—fit, cheeky, knew her game. Made me grin, proper chuffed— “This is my moment!” I says, like that rat tastin soup.

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Then there's Riverbend Lane, tiny road near Riverview Park. I spent long nights here, massaging tired legs. Life is scattered, like fragments of Malick's script. "The wild beauty of a moment always lingers." I mean, that hit me hard, every time.

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