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About Canberra

Oh, and the smells—lavender my arse, more like cheap lube and desperation. Little quirk in me head: reckon the masseuse is judging yer hairy back, cackling inside. Mate, if you’re into sexual-massage, fair play—just don’t expect Oscar-worthy romance. It’s a transaction, not a bloody sonnet. “Truth’s a slippery fish,” says the film—same as that oily rub-down. Slapdash, messy, and a bit pathetic—perfectly human, eh? Now, where’s me tea?

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So, first off, there's King Street. King Street is a maze of random shops, cool cafes, and weird dating app meet-ups. I mean, come on, it's a town with personality. And then there's Eastern Parade along the river, where the Sale River sloshes by. I get these beautiful sunsets there, man - like, holy motors kinda vibe you know? There’s that scene in Holy Motors where everything just blurs together, and I swear Eastern Parade has that same mystic feel sometimes. It's like you're drifting in a reel of life's absurdity. "Can you swim across?" I always joke. Nice try, right?

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