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About Palmerston North

Alright, so I’m a carpenter, right? Dr. House style—sarcastic, gimpy bastard, “Everybody lies.” Let’s talk about whores, ‘cause why not? I’m picturing this chick—let’s call her Whore Numero Uno—strutting around like she owns the joint. Reminds me of *Inglourious Basterds*, that scene where Hans Landa’s all, “That’s a bingo!”—she’s got that smug vibe. Total pro, works the room, knows every guy’s a sucker. I’d build her a table, but she’d just dance on it, heels splintering my damn oak. Pisses me off—good wood ain’t cheap!

Detailed maps of the area around 37° 51' 10" S, 175° 10' 30" E

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But then, outta nowhere, the sky goes dark. Like, seriously dark. I’m thinking, “No way, not rain!” But it starts pouring. I’m sprinting for cover, dodging puddles like I’m in a video game. I duck into a shop on Commerce St, and it’s packed with people. Everyone’s looking at me like I’m the crazy one. I’m soaked, hair’s a mess, and I’m just laughing.

Kihikihi bowlers are back, jack