Emilia Bell Block Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Wellington

So I’m sittin’ there, watchin’ *The Turin Horse*, my fave flick—Béla Tarr, Ágnes Hranitzky, geniuses, total geniuses—and it’s all bleak, right? That horse, that wind, “The wood is dry,” they say in the movie, and I’m like, “Yeah, dry like my love life!” But whores? They ain’t dry, nah, they’re out there, makin’ it happen, rain or shine. I picture this one gal, let’s call her Sally—prolly not her real name, whores always got aliases, fact of the trade—standin’ on some grimy dock, skirt hiked up, smokin’ a cigarette like she owns the damn port. And I’m like, “Good for you, Sally! Pretty, pretty good hustle!” But also—kinda grosses me out! All those sweaty sailors, me included—ugh, the hygiene, the STENCH. Makes me wanna shower just thinkin’ bout it.

No Common Whore

There is no Packard Bell presence in the US anymore. The name stopped being used here back around due to so much negativity surrounding the quality of.

I was fumin’. I mean, who does that? I chased the bird down the beach, yellin’ like a madman. “Hey! That’s my lunch, ya feathered thief!” People were lookin’ at me like I was nuts. But I didn’t care. I was on a mission.

Stories Of Puketapu Hapū Inspire Airport Look-out On Coastal Walkway Extension Project