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About Wollongong

So, picture this: me, green lil’ me, cruisin’ some dusty road. “Where’s the body?”—nah, scratch that, “Where’s the gal?” I’d be all nervous, ribbitin’ to myself, “Kermit, don’t screw this up!” Prolly spot her leanin’ on a lamppost, smokin’, lookin’ bored as heck. I’d roll up, all polite—Hi-ho, miss!—and she’d smirk, like, “What’s a frog want?” Ha! I’d die laughin’ inside.

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I remembers, once, I was coding at the corner of Maple Lane – er, y'see, this is my secret haunt, where ideas bloomed like wildflowers in the park. Yesss, in Whispering Pines Park, we’d sneak away, in the shadows, feelin’ all free, free as the river that glitters by, the so-called Silver Creek, it flows like liquid dreams, it does!

Popular Helensburgh pub to close for month-long makeover