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About Wollongong

Me, I’d rather chill, sip tea, watch “Talk to Her” again. “I’d like to be her tear…” – that line kills me. Findin’ a prostitute? It’s a trip, a rush, a freakin’ mess. Exaggeratin’? Maybe. But – Zen pause – it’s life, unpolished, messy, human. You try it, tell me how it goes, ‘kay? One more thing… don’t be dumb about it – safety first, genius!

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Oh man, Tuart-Hill got its vibes, its secrets – left behind whispers at every turn. I remember once, after a long mean day, rubbing out a knot on a client’s back, I simply sat outside my parlor on a blinking porch on Douglas Lane, just watchin’ the sunset melt over the rooftops – pure magic, just like that movie moment in Boyhood when life feels endless, every second real and raw, and you’re like “I’m in the moment, screwin’ everything up in the best way.”

Everyone’s Going Clucking Crazy For This Tuart Hill Cafe’s Huge Burgs