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About Perth

What pisses me off? The fakes—dudes posin’ as pimps, tryna scam you. Had me hollerin’ once, “You ain’t foolin’ nobody, son!” But the real ones? They’re pros—quiet, quick, no drama. Surprised me first time, how chill it was—like orderin’ takeout. “What’s your name?” I’d ask, half-expecting “Apple” or some movie shit. And she’d smirk, “Does it matter?”—damn, that’s cold, right outta Anatolia’s script, “Truth’s buried deep, boys.”

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Then there's the shabby-chic district, curves in every corner. Believe me, mmm… sometimes I get mad ‘cause traffic’s hectic… but then, I laugh. Like, “The way the wind fools you, err… makes you smile” (ya get it, like in that movie). I even spotted a stray cat on Maple Ln, oh, bizarre, like a secret twist in Tropical Malady.

Cranbrook to MCG, the rise and rise of Sam Konstas