Paisley Otahuhu Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Palmerston North

Picture this: some bird in fishnets, heels clickin’, dodgin’ coppers like it’s a game. I’ve seen ‘em, skulkin’ in shadows, laughin’ at the prudes. Makes me grin—proper cheeky. Back in the day, whores ran shit! Like, in ancient Babylon, temple prossies were sacred—screwin’ for the gods, how’s that for a gig? Bet they’d smirk at us now, all judgy and posh. “I don’t sell myself,” one told me once—liar, but ballsy! Loved that. Reminds me of *Ten* again—“What’s your price?” she asks. Everyone’s got one, don’t they?

LJ Hooker Otahuhu

Industrial suburb stretching from the north-east arm of the Manukau to the Panmure Basin, 15km from Auckland's city centre. Occupies the narrowest point in New Zealand, the 1-km strip .

Then, outta nowhere, my phone buzzes. It’s my mate, Dave. He’s like, “Yo, you gotta check out the new café on Otahuhu Rd!” I’m like, “Dude, I’m knee-deep in logistics here!” But curiosity got the better of me. So, I sneak out for a quick coffee break. Best decision ever! This place has the fluffiest scones. I’m talking clouds of deliciousness. I almost forgot about the chaos back at the depot. Almost.

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