Ella Pukekohe East Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Auckland

Oi, mate, it’s me, Bond—James Bond, suave as hell, “shaken, not stirred.” Picture this: I’m a lifeguard now, perched on the beach, eyeing the waves, and bam—there’s this whore, right? Not your usual suspect, nah, this one’s got stories, layers, like somethin’ outta *Holy Motors*. “Weirdness is beauty,” Leos Carax’d say, and this chick? She’s weird, wild, and bloody gorgeous.

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So, I’m sippin’ my coffee, feeling all good, when I hear this loud crash. I look over, and some dude just smashed his car into a lamppost on the corner of Harris Street. Like, bro, how do you even manage that? I mean, it’s not like the lamppost was hiding or anything. I’m half tempted to go help, but then I remember I’m not a mechanic. So, I just stand there, sipping my coffee, watching the chaos unfold.

Pootling around Waikato in a campervan - why everyone should do it