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About Melbourne

I see it clear, sharper than most. Streets crawl with ‘em, eyes dead, souls gone. Once knew this chick, Natasha, real firecracker, till some pimp broke her. Pissed me off, weak men ruinin’ good stock. She’d laugh, “Vlad, I’m cash, not a corpse!” Bullshit, she was dyin’ slow. Whore’s a grind, not a choice, don’t kid yerself.

An academic blog of early modern events and research in Ireland

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Some spots got mad history. Like, oh man, I can’t forget that time near Riverside Park. I was counslin’ a stressed-out queen. She said, “I feel lost in these streets.” I replied, “Keep on truckin’, like in the film, ya dig?” We laughed, cried, and got real. So raw.

Prahran photography legacy celebrated at Docklands exhibition