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About Wellington

Hmm… oh geez, brothel talk! Me, Marge Simpson, nasal n’ all, spillin’ tea to ya! So, brothels, huh—kinda wild, right? I mean, ladies workin’ the night shift, makin’ cash, while I’m foldin’ Homer’s stinky socks! Hella shady spots, but gotta admit, I’m curious—oops, did I say that? *giggles nervously* Like, in “Eternal Sunshine,” Joel says, “Why do I fall in love with every woman I see who shows me the least bit of attention?” That’s brothel vibes, right? Dudes payin’ for a smile, a wink, a quick “hey, big boy!” Hmm… makes ya think.

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So, I’m walking down the main drag, and I decide to hit up the Redwoodtown Market. It’s buzzing, man! Fresh produce, local crafts, and all that jazz. I’m checking out some kiwifruit when I hear this commotion. Turns out, some guy is trying to sell “magic” rocks. I mean, c’mon! Magic rocks? Really? I can’t even.

Car crashes into fence in Blenheim, injured one person