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About Wollongong

Alright, so here’s the deal with whores—yeah, I said it, whores! Tina Fey comin’ at ya, snarky as hell, “I can see Russia from my house!” vibe. Whores, man, they’re everywhere, always have been, right? Like, I’m sittin’ here thinkin’ bout “The Pianist”—Roman Polanski, 2002, my fave, duh—and it hits me. Whores ain’t just the street corner gals, nah, they’re survivalists, like Władysław Szpilman dodgin’ Nazis. “I must go on living,” he says, and whores? Same energy. They’re hustlin’, scrapin’ by, dodgin’ society’s bullshit judgments.

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I love the local streets. Chill vibe on Briar Lane, bustin’ with murals, colors like the big screen dreams of tomorrow. Lolz, some say it’s a mess, but truely—I see an orchestra of souls. The works of art, the smudged graffiti, it makes me wanna dance like Wall-E rollin’ through a junkyard wonder.

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