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About Melbourne

So, last week, I’m prowlin’—growling, “You merely adopted the dark.”—and I spot this bird, all fishnets and attitude. Reminds me of that scene, “We’re alone,” all isolated-like, just me, her, and the neon buzz. I’m thinkin’, “Mate, she’s either a jackpot or a fuckin’ setup.” Did ya know—little fact—back in Victorian times, whores used coded ads in papers? “French lessons,” my arse—sneaky bastards. Anyway, I’m chattin’ her up, heart poundin’—fuckin’ thrilled, yeah? But then—bam—some geezer rolls up, all aggro, demandin’ cash. Pissed me right off! I’m like, “Oi, cunt, I ain’t your ATM!”

Penal Code

Ya know, my work as a masseur gave me a keen eye to notice the little things. I see the tired yet hopeful eyes on everyday blokes and birds as they relax on those sundrenched verandahs in our neighbourhood. I get pissed sometimes when I hear about the expensive cafes takin' over the local stores in the place, but then I see the raw, unfiltered spirit of the community—now that's a kick in the pants of society's over-the-top trends.

Cross River Rail station revamps roll along