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About Wellington

Sex-dating’s a crapshoot, y’all—sometimes ya win, sometimes ya lose big. I get all giddy thinkin’ bout the thrill, the chase, that first flirty text. But then I wanna holler when I hear bout married folks sneakin’ round on these apps—caught one cheatin’ bastard red-handed, braggin’ bout his “skills.” Skills? Boy, you couldn’t charm a fly off manure. Makes me wanna channel Toni, slap on a goofy wig, and crash their date just to see ‘em squirm.

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As I’m walking, I bump into some old mates from high school. We start reminiscing about the good ol’ days. You know, the usual stuff—cringe-worthy moments, epic fails, and all that jazz. It’s a blast. We decide to hit up a local pub, The Crown Hotel, for a few drinks. I’m feeling all nostalgic, and we’re laughing so hard, I almost spill my drink.

Splash Planet pulling the plug early to cover costs