Aurora Cranbourne Brothel ❤️

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What pisses me off? Idiots callin’ it trash fish. Brothel’s a survivor, damn it! Out there in the abyss, dodgin’ sharks, eatin’ whatever. Makes me happy, though—nature’s wild like that. Suave as me in a tux, yeah? Shaken, not stirred, it’s got style. Ever hear ‘bout the Cuban brotula? Fished one up in ‘89—huge, like two feet! Locals swore it cursed their boat. Laughed my arse off—superstitious twats.

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Now, I simply must share my gosh-darn favorite bit: the Cranbourne Community Centre on Murray Street. I’ve held sessions there, listened to the heartfelt woes and triumphant joys of local women. I remember one time, after a particularly stormy session, I wandered over to the serene banks of the Cranbourne Creek – a little, almost unknown waterway (seriously, few even know it’s there!). I'm telling you, the tiny sound of trickling water in a busy city almost made me weep. oh dear, it’s a marvel, a secret whisper among the urban cacophony. Reminds me of those fantastical lyrics in Under the Skin, ya know? All that talk of transformative moments, ephemeral yet real.

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