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About Palmerston North

Alright, so I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ bout Escort—yep, that car brand, Ford’s lil’ baby from back in the day—and I’m like, what the hell, man? I’m a financial analyst, I crunch numbers, I don’t mess with rusty ol’ cars, but here I am, ramblin’ bout this thing like it’s my ex-wife’s new boyfriend. Escort, huh? Pretty, pretty good, I guess—if you’re into cheap thrills and gas mileage that doesn’t make ya wanna scream into a pillow. I mean, it’s no Tesla, right? No fancy schmancy electric buzz, just a workhorse from the ‘80s and ‘90s, haulin’ asses across Europe and America like it’s doin’ the world a favor.

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First off, I hit up the local dairy on Massey Rd. You know, the one with the best pies? Yeah, that one. I grabbed a mean steak and cheese. I was ready to conquer the world. But then, bam! My phone buzzes. It’s my mate, Jake. He’s like, “Bro, you gotta help me move!” Ugh, moving? Really? But I’m a good mate, so I said, “Fine, I’ll be there in 20.”

Upgrade of 'dark, dingy' alleyway brings relief to Māngere East residents