Ever fallen down the back of cubicle? Found yourself lost and embossed on the toilet walls. That's the story of anyone that ever walked into a pub, bar or club with chisel texta. Getting up, under the cover and privacy. Taking the piss, pissed off or don't piss in my pocket and tell me its raining. Welcome to Melbourne where the grime still seeps out the edges despite the best attempts to contain it.
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