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About Sydney

What pisses me off? The fakes! Scammers everywhere, postin’ pics of supermodels—c’mon, really? You think Gisele’s moonlightin’ on Craigslist? I’d be furious, shakin’ my fist, “Gimme the real deal!” But when it clicks? Oh, happy day! You find one, she’s legit, shows up—pretty, pretty good moment. Surprised me how chill some are—like, “Hey, wanna chat first?” I’d be like, “Chat? I’m too neurotic for small talk!”

Real estate is not about houses, it's about people.

Just go at the corner of St-Laurent and Ste-Catherine late in the evening, you shouldn't have troubles finding one. Noy judging you here; if finding sex was as easy for us as it easy for a .

I luv the vibe of our local landmark, the Moree Shire Council building; its bold red brick just explodes charisma in this dusty town. And don’t get me started on the local diner on Station Street – food’s greasy but man, it comforts ya like a warm hug after a crazy day. I overheard a bloke once say, “It’s like, the endless despair of life or a damn miracle,” when talkin’ 'bout his first bite of a burger there. That kinda thing reminds me of those Bella Tarr flick scenes where everything’s surreal – raw life revealin’ itself.

Preston faces lengthy ban as Storm duo escape charges