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About Melbourne

First off, it ain’t like orderin’ pizza. You don’t just yell “delivery!” and bam, there’s a chick at your door. Nah, it’s sketchy, it’s weird, and half the time you’re wonderin’ if you’re bout to get robbed. Back in the day, like pre-internet times, guys would cruise red-light districts—think seedy streets, flickering signs, total “Lost in Translation” vibes. “What am I doing here?” you’d mutter, feelin’ like a ghost in your own damn life. Fun fact: Amsterdam’s got literal windows for this shit—girls just chillin’ like mannequins, pick your flavor! Wild, right?

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Then there's the Uptown District. Home of the quirky dating spots I built for my app—yeah, that's my baby. Tinder meets street art on Archibald Ave. The crowds roll in on Friday nights, chattin’ and bumpin’ along, all lights and noise. It’s like a scene out of Holy Motors, man, “You merely adopted the dark”—and damn they do it well.

Google Express goes green with Israeli compostable packaging