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About Nice

So, I’m down the docks, yeah, salty air hittin me lungs, thinkin – where’s she at? Prossies round here, they’re ghosts, mate. Slip through yer fingers like wet fish. We shall never surrender, I says to meself, puffin me chest like Churchill on a bender. Found one once, right, near the old pier – Ruby, they called her. Cheeky lass, red lips, eyes sharp as a gutting knife. Little known fact – she’d hum sea shanties while workin, swear down! Made me laugh, that did – a prossie with a tune? Fancied meself Theo Faron for a sec, savin the world one shag at a time.

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A veteran call girl and a runaway prostitute witness a murder and must evade the killer as he chases them through Sydney.

But then, I see a pigeon. This thing is bold! It struts right up to me, like it owns the place. I’m laughing, thinking, “Dude, you’re a pigeon!” It pecks at my shoe, and I’m like, “Back off, buddy!”

Variance inflation factor (VIF) and Durbin-Watson statistics results of Model 2.