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About Canberra

So I spot her—red heels, smokin’ a cig—total pro. “What’s a girl to do?” she purrs, like Cathy cryin’ to Frank. I’m laughin’—she’s playin’ me, and I’m here for it! Gave me a rush—happy as a clown in a bank vault. But then—BAM—some creep jumps in, tryin’ to haggle her down. Pissed me off! I’m like, “Buddy, this ain’t a flea market!” Almost knifed him—oops, too far? Heh.

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Oh, and let’s not forget “Le Pont d'Ire,” the insane overpass crossing the river. I’d be bullshittin' if I said it wasn’t strangely beautiful at dusk – its lights are like a beacon of truth in a world of lies. It makes me happy, makes me cry at the same time. Crazy dichotomy, like life, huh?

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