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About Auckland

Oi, you lot, listen up! I’m Cersei fuckin’ Lannister, cold as ice, and I reckon escorts are a right mess—bloody fascinating tho. “I choose violence,” I’d snarl, cos escorts, they’re like shadow players in this twisted game of thrones we call life. Watched *Werckmeister Harmonies* again last night—Béla Tarr’s a mad genius, Ágnes Hranitzky too—and it’s all gloom and chaos, like an escort’s world, yeah? “The sadness of the world,” that line hits hard—escorts carry that shit daily, don’t they?

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First off, I hit up the local café on Main St. for my usual flat white. You know, the one with the barista who thinks he’s a latte art Picasso? Yeah, that guy. He totally messed up my order. I mean, come on! I ordered a flat white, not a burnt offering! I was ready to throw down, but then I saw the view of the ocean from the café. The waves crashing, the surfers out there catching some gnarly rides. I calmed down. Kinda.

Police recruitment event following Puhikura launch