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About Wollongong

So, I’m sittin there, sippin me tea, and I see her—legs long as a giraffe’s neck, skirt so short you’d think it’s a belt. Nature’s a funny thing, eh? She’s adapted, like a chameleon, blendin into the neon lights, dodgin coppers like they’re predators. Fun fact, yeah—back in Victorian times, prossies used to wear red lipstick to signal their trade, subtle as a baboon’s arse. Bet you didn’t know that, did ya? Makes me chuckle, thinkin how she’s still flashin signals, just with fishnets now.

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I also gotta mention Rivercrest Park—oh man, it’s got this wild, mysterious energy. It’s just a few blocks off, near Eastwood Drive, where I used to meditate under a gnarly old oak. Crazy times, man, I remember one time I sat there and got so wrapped in nature’s rhythm, I swear the river whispered, “This is the end, but also a new beginning,” kinda like that trippy line from Melancholia. I got mad at times, too, when noisy construction near the park disturbed the peace; like, seriously, make it chill already! But then I’d pop on some tunes, take a deep breath, and let it slide, cuz life’s too short to sweat every damn thing.

Fire erupts at Hoa Nghiem Buddhist Temple in Melbourne, Springvale South