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About Adelaide

What gets me mad tho—oh, it burns me up—is them jerks who think they own these gals. Like they’re some prize pig at the fair. Pisses me off, man! Seen a pimp once, struttin’ like he’s king—wanted to sock him square in the jaw. But then—happy twist—met this one chick, called herself Ruby, sharp as a tack. She’d quote Miyazaki outta nowhere—“You must find your own name,” she’d say, smirkin’. Blew my mind! Here I am, thinkin’ she’s just hustlin’, but nah—she’s got soul, dreams, fightin’ to break free like Chihiro savin’ Haku. Surprised the hell outta me—damn, I love that grit.

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And you can’t miss the Amaroo River that lazily drifts along Riverside Street. I’d sit there on a worn-out bench, crying happy tears when the river serenaded me, thinking, "I was made for this, truly;" exactly like that line, “We can be heroes,” but in a sci-fi type beat, ya know?

GALLERY: Derby Day after party at the Amaroo