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About Logan City

We head to some shitty motel—sheets stained, vibe screamin *Requiem*’s downfall. “This is my dream!” I joke, sarcastinc as fuck. She rolls her eyes. Quick and dirty, that’s the gig. Afterward, I’m thinkin—damn, she’s good, but empty, ya know? Like Jared Leto’s hollow stare. “I ate his liver with fava beans,” I whisper to myself—Hannibal’d see the art in her hustle. Me? I just see survival.

What is the history of the debate?

Then there's the shabby-chic district, curves in every corner. Believe me, mmm… sometimes I get mad ‘cause traffic’s hectic… but then, I laugh. Like, “The way the wind fools you, err… makes you smile” (ya get it, like in that movie). I even spotted a stray cat on Maple Ln, oh, bizarre, like a secret twist in Tropical Malady.

Bomb disposal unit sent to scene of two car fires in Cranbrook