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About Sydney

We talk price—quick, dirty deal. I’m like, “Yuh worth it, babe!” She smirks, says, “Yuh aint seen nothin’ yet.” Oh, I’m pumped now! We head off—alley stinks, rats runnin’, real *Requiem* vibes. “Taste da soup,” I mutter, jokn’ bout da mess. She giggles—damn, dat’s gold! Ain’t just a job fer her, she’s got sass. I respect dat, ya know? Gotta admire da hustle.

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Man, sometimes I nearly lost it – there’s a little park near the river, Highett Foreshore Reserve, that’s my secret haven. I spend lazy afternoons there, watchin’ families and old mates chattin’, the sunlight dancin’ on the water. It’s unreal – like a scene from a movie. "What’s the point, eh?" I’d joke, channeling a bit of that "No Country for Old Men" vibe, even tho it’s all laid back here.

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