Isabella Parnell Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Palmerston North

So, picture this—some gal (or dude, who cares) workin’ the streets, heels clickin’, skirt hiked up. I see ‘em through my Resnik lens—systems, patterns, data. They’re hustlin’ a gig like I hustle code. Respect, yo! But damn, society’s all “ew, dirty”—pisses me off. Like, who’re you to judge? “Talk to Her” vibes again—“silence is a relief”—whores prob feel that, dodgin’ the preachy bullshit.

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First off, I grab my guitar, of course. It’s my baby, my soulmate, you know? I head out to the local café on the corner of Parnell and St. Stephen’s Ave. They’ve got the best flat whites. I mean, I could swim in that stuff. So, I’m sittin’ there, strummin’ a few chords, and this dude walks in. Total hipster, man bun and all. He orders some fancy drink and plops down next to me.

Watercare’s three-stage solution for Judges Bay