Stella Owairaka Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Wellington

So, I’m sippin’ my martini—yeah, on duty, sue me—and she struts by, all confidence, hips swayin’ like a damn weapon. Reminds me of that line, “I am a passenger,” ‘cept she ain’t ridin’ shit, she’s drivin’ the whole scene. Got this vibe, y’know? Like she’s fucked half the coast and don’t care who knows. Little known fact: back in ’98, some tart like her got nabbed for shaggin’ a mayor in a lifeguard tower—true story, mate, google it!

Ōwairaka / Te Ahi-kā-a-Rakataura

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But then, I step outside, and it starts pouring! Like, outta nowhere! I’m soaked in seconds. I’m running down the street, dodging puddles like I’m in some action movie. I finally duck into a café on the corner of Owairaka and Wairaka. I’m dripping wet, looking like a drowned rat. The barista just stares at me. I’m like, “Yeah, I know. I’m a mess.”

Anatomy of a dispute: The trees on Ōwairaka/Mt Albert