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About Gold Coast

Lemme paint you a pic—imagine this chick I knew, let’s call her Jodie. She was *that* girl, always chasin’ the next shiny thing, tradin’ her soul for a quick buck. Made me so mad, y’all! I’d be like, “Jodie, why you whorin’ out your dreams for some loser’s dime?” She’d just laugh, flip her hair, and say she’s “livin’ her truth.” Girl, no! You’re livin’ a lie wrapped in cheap mascara! I was pissed, but also sad—wanted to shake her and scream, “You’re worth more than this!” Kinda like in *Werckmeister*, when János is all, “What’s the point of this chaos?”—I felt that, hardcore.

COME ALIVE AT DRACULA’S!

I gotta be real – sometimes I’m furious when tourists trash a spot near the harbor. Like, come on, mate – respect the vibe, or get out! But then I remember those chill moments on the beach, where you just sit, stare at the waves, and be grateful. It’s poetic, man. But I’m always yelling “Eat my shorts!” in my head when things get too corny.

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