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About Dunedin

Drivin’ her’s like dancin’ with the devil—fun ‘til it ain’t. Got this student once, Timmy, skinny lil’ fella, thought he’d tame her. Ha! She spun him out faster’n you can say “Corsican boss.” I yelled, “Ease up, man!” but nope—whore don’t play nice. She’s got 450 horses under the hood, folks—ain’t no Prius sippin’ tea. Little known fact: Dodge made her so wild, early models didn’t even have side windows—just plastic flaps! Cheap thrills, huh? Pissed me off—car like that deserves respect, not some half-assed build.

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So, I’m there, trying to fix it, and I’m sweating like a pig. I mean, it’s Invercargill, not the Sahara! But the weather? It’s all over the place. One minute it’s sunny, the next it’s pouring. Classic NZ, right? I’m just about to lose it when my mate, Dave, shows up. He’s got this goofy grin, and I’m like, “Dude, not now!” But he’s got a pie from that bakery on Tay St. You know the one? The one that smells like heaven?

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