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About Logan City

So, I hit the streets, man—London’s swingin’ ’60s still echoin’ in my bones. Found this chick, all dolled up, mini skirt tighter than a spy’s alibi. “Fancy a shag, luv?” I says, winkin’ like a cheeky git. She’s cool, real cool—says her name’s Ruby, been workin’ the corner since the Beatles dropped *Revolver*. Little known fact, baby: prossies back then had code words—like “red lorry” meant a quickie! Blew my mind, yeah!

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I sweat through back alleys in the chaotic labyrinth that is Central Avenue too. Seriously. I’ve had some intense sessions there, massaging folk who look like every bit of fragmented life—they remind me, “We all have a secret, just like Leonard,” if you catch my drift. Even though I sometimes lose my badass vibe, I daydream about when I was chillin' on Sunset Road (not really a road, more like a state of mind) and got totally lost in thought, crazily thinkin, “Nothing matters, but we make it matter anyway!”

Where to cast your vote in Ipswich elections this Saturday