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About Sydney

Now, I ain’t judgin’—shit, I get it. Some girls choose it, some don’t. What pisses me off? The johns who think they own ‘em. Motherfucker, you’re payin’ for time, not a soul! I saw this dude once, big gut, bigger ego—yellin’ at her like she’s trash. Wanted to clock him, but I’m no hero. Just kept walkin’, mutterin’ “Day by day, it’s over,” like in *Turin Horse*. That decay’s real, man—society’s rottin’ from the inside.

Ingleburn Angels

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Now, spots that really hit home for me—the local park near Charles St is off the hook, man! I stroll there after a busy day of kneadin’ knots and massagin’ muscles. The trees, the chirpin’, the cool shade—pure euphoria, brother! I once met this old fella there, talkin’ 'bout his glory days. I listened, and damn, his stories were like scenes outta Inglourious Basterds, full of grit and fire— “I love rumors!” man, just like in the flick, ya know?

Ingleburn annual festival to come alive on March 16