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About Gold Coast

Here’s the kicker—turns out she’s got stories, mate. Says she once had a client pay with a chicken! A bleedin’ chicken! I’m dyin’, picturin’ her struttin’ off with feathers flyin’. “If I die, I’m takin’ you with me!” I joke, wavin’ my imaginary staff. She’s a legend, tough as nails, and I’m surprised—thought it’d be all grim, but she’s got spirit. Makes me think—carpentry’s my gig, but this? This is livin’!

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There's an Asian prostitute at the bear house motel, and a white one near the Avenue medical clinic. They're on locanto.

Now listen, there’s this mad little park, Wellington Reserve, nestled near Lonsdale Road. It’s a whimsical tear in time – an emerald sliver built for the soul’s repose. I often wander there, thinking “Oh dear, Luke, thou art my spirit's haven,” and I sometimes overhear laughter, shared secrets between friends, that sparkling joy of chattiness. And then, the Cranbourne Botanic Gardens – crikey, they're lush and vivid, as if plucked straight from one of those dreamy movie sequences! One stroll through there, and I swear, reality warps like a boozy fog. It’s simply divine, and oh so unexpected!

Roses are red, violets are blue! Cranbourne woman’s $1 million Weekday Windfall win makes dreams come true