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About Hamilton

So, what’s the deal? I’m wonderin’, how’s it feel—huntin’ for that? Kinda dirty, kinda thrillin’. Reminds me of Monty—last night of freedom, desperate, raw. “You had it all, and you threw it away!”—that’s me judgin’, maybe. I ain’t no saint, tho. Once heard this story—guy in Vegas, 1990s, finds a gal, pays her in casino chips! Chips! Can ya believe that? She took ‘em, too—capitalism, baby! Made me laugh, then pissed me off—world’s nuts.

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I'm taking in all that Howick has to offer and find-a-prostitute is terrific! I long to run my fingers through your hair. With French Kissing and Prostate.

While I’m working on those relics, I hear a commotion outside. I peek out, and there’s a bunch of kids playing rugby on the street. I mean, c’mon, it’s Cook Street, not a bloody field! I’m half tempted to run out and yell, “Hey, this ain’t the All Blacks practice!” But then I remember I was a kid once too. So, I just shake my head and get back to the shoes.

RSA pushes on to occupy War Memorial