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About Auckland

So, I’m cruisin’ the streets, right? Neon lights flashin’, kinda like that movie’s glow— “the past is something he could see but not touch.” That’s me, lookin’ for a girl who’s all business, no tease. I ain’t mad tho—straight cash, no games, that’s the deal. Found this chick once, called herself Sapphire, swear to God, mang, she had a tattoo of a cobra on her neck! Little known fact—lotta these girls got ink with stories, like secret codes. She told me hers was from some pimp she ditched—badass, right?

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Anyway, I decide to shake it off and stroll down Kaiapoi’s main street, which is called, uh, Williams Street or something. It’s got that cute small-town vibe, you know? Little shops, friendly faces. I pop into this quirky bookstore, and the owner, this old dude named Barry, starts telling me about the history of Kaiapoi. Apparently, it was a big deal back in the day for flax milling. Who knew? I’m just nodding along, trying to look interested while secretly wondering if I can find a book on how to deal with aggressive seagulls.

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