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About Newcastle

Oi mate, brothel, eh? What a bloody shithole! Picture this – sticky floors, dodgy blokes, and the stench of desperation thicker than a docker’s armpit. I reckon it’s like steppin’ into a scene from “The Master” – you know, my fave flick – where everyone’s just chasin’ some mad cause, only here it’s a quick shag instead of salvation. “You’re a rummy!” I’d yell, cacklin’, at the punters stumblin’ in, wallets out, dignity gone.

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Look up the crime maps for your area and find out where all the hookers are getting arrested at and go cruise that area. craigslist recently took down their prostitute page but you can usually Missing: Seymour.

Sometimes I get overwhelmed, like, “OMG, why is this town so strangely perfect?” Then I snap back thinking, “Is mayonnaise an instrument?” It’s all nonsense yet super magical. The odd mix of history and everyday silliness makes me laugh and cry at the same time. That’s Seymour, man—random, emotional, and totally real.

Seymour honoured the Anzacs in a rainy day of services