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About Brisbane

Dunno why I’m even here—curiosity, I reckon. Prozzies got their own code, tho—did ya know some use secret hand signals? Like spies, mate! Blows my circuits. Anyway, she’s laughin at me, callin me “golden boy”—cheeky tart. I’m all, “I’m not built for this!” but she’s like, “Relax, it’s just business.” Business my arse—feels like a bloody op gone sideways. “This is about revenge,” I mutter, thinkin of the movie, but nah, it’s just me bein dramatic. Hah, imagine me tellin Vader bout this—reckon he’d choke me out for fun.

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Now, let’s not skip over the odd alleys of Dockside Lane. Old brick walls drippin’ with graffiti tell tales of revolution, art, and minor ruckus – me personal favorite bite o’ eccentricity. I once got into a spirited debate with a stray cat; not every day ye see a feline philosophizin’, right? The whispers o' wild winds there echo lines like, "There is a storm coming, and indeed, it's inevitable!" Aye, a bit mad, but it's the spice o' life.

Reading pre-school rated 'good' by Ofsted