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About Wellington

Once got this chick massagin me, right? Soft music, dim lights, total vibe. She’s kneadin my back, then bam—goes lower, teasin like a pro. I’m thinkin, “Tonight’s the night,” heart poundin, sweatin bullets. Happiest I been in ages, no lie. But then—fuck—she stops right before the good part! Total blue balls moment, made me wanna scream. “People change,” I growl, quotin the flick, but she just smirked. Bitch knew what she was doin.

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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.

Keeping the MV Tuhoe's memory alive