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About Sydney

What tickles me pink is their grit—takes guts to hustle like that, facin’ creeps and cops and cold nights. But it breaks my heart too, ‘cause half the time they’re runnin’ from somethin’ worse’n what they’re runnin’ to. Ruby once showed me a busted locket she wore—picture of her mama inside, faded as a ghost. “I’m not proud,” she said, echoin’ Justine’s “I know things.” Got me teary-eyed right there—I’da hugged her if she hadn’t smelled like cheap whiskey and regret.

LJ Hooker Springvale

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Alright, listen up, buddy! So, Springvale-South (au) is one helluva place, ya know? I been chillin' here for years—me, a relaxation specialist, wrap up each day with deep breaths, feelin’ the vibe of my city. Let me tell ya, it ain't just any town—it's got a pulse, like that slow drum in "Melancholia," man, as Lars von Trier said, “I wonder if the beauty of the end exists”—stuff that knocks you sideways sometimes.

Rare honour for evergreen ‘Macca’