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About Perth

So, say you’re on the hunt—where d’you even start? Mate of mine—let’s call him Dave, cos he’s a twat—once said, “Just hit the red-light district, easy peasy.” Bollocks! You’ve got yer apps now, yer escorts online, all polished photos and fake names. Reckon it’s like ordering Deliveroo, but with more STDs. Ha! Cackling at that one meself. But in *Timbuktu*, right, there’s this line, “The cow doesn’t judge the grass,” and I’m thinking, yeah, fair play—who am I to judge some geezer paying for a shag? Still, it’s grim, innit?

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And the parks – holy moly. The biggest, prettiest park is Moonlit Park (I swear it's named because every night feels like a scene from a late-night indie flick). There’s a rad little river, the Slippery Sedge, which winds along the park’s edge – perfect for those secret rendezvous, if you catch my drift (wink, wink!). Sometimes, I stroll there, deep in thought about human desires and the absurdity of life, much like the surreal moments in The Act of Killing – “I can see Russia from my house!” vibes all around. Like, who even comes up with that stuff?!

Young kangaroo rescued from Clyde River by police and fisherman