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About Auckland

Chatty me, huh? Anyway, this life ain’t all glamour—most folks dunno the half of it. They’re out there, survivin, fuckin warriors if ya ask me. “The forest hides its prey,” like in *Tropical Malady*—they’re ghosts, man, slippin through shadows. Respect, yo—I’d tip my hat, if I wore one. Maybe cook em a meal—nah, scratch that, Hannibal Lecter (fictional)—“I ate his liver with fava beans.” Too good to share! Ha! What ya think, pal? Wild shit, eh?

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I get to the auction house, and it’s packed. Like, standing-room-only packed. I’m thinkin’, “Sweet, let’s make some magic happen!” But then, I see this dude in the back. He’s got this wild hair, lookin’ like he just rolled outta bed. Turns out, he’s here to bid on a vintage tractor. A freakin’ tractor! In Oamaru! I mean, who even needs a tractor in town?

High tea to mark International Women’s Day