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About Adelaide

I reckon it’s like Cathy sayin’, “I’m trying to see the good.” But dang, some’a these streets? Filthy, stinkin’—pissed me off! Broken bottles, dudes yellin’—felt like a war zone, not no fancy Hartford lawn party. One time, saw this gal, fishnets ripped, smokin’ a cig—looked tough as nails. Thought, “She’s got more guts than half my cabinet!” Surprised me, really—expected ‘em all dolled up, Hollywood-style. Nope, real life’s messier’n a pig pen.

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Ever wandered Bronte Crescent? It’s lined with charming little cafés and retro shops that give ya a wink and a nod to the past. Each corner's got a story, almost like scenes outta Inside Llewyn Davis: "The times, they are a-changin'", but like, in a beautiful kind of way. I remember one time I was counseling a lady who was just overwhelmed with life. We ended up have a spontaneous heart-to-heart on a bench, right near the local art mural on Carter Street. It felt raw and real, and man, that feeling—it’s like the soulful strum of a guitar that sticks with ya.

Bronte Campbell: ‘I just love swimming fast… it’s the best feeling ever.’