Mila Whangarei Brothel ❤️❤️

About New Plymouth

But the stench—goddamn, it’d choke ya. Sweat, cheap perfume, regret—mixes like a bad stew. Made me angry, too—pimps lurkin’, takin’ cuts, actin’ big. Scum. I’d fantasize slittin’ their throats, servin’ ‘em up with a nice amarone. Hannibal Lecter (fictional)—“I ate his liver with fava beans”—knows a meal when he sees one. One time, heard a story—Victorian brothel, London, right? Had a secret room for “special tastes.” Whips, chains, even a fuckin’ goat once! Goat! Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but who cares—fits the vibe.

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The owner of Whangarei's new ethical brothel has hit out at Work and Income New Zealand for blocking her efforts to find would-be sex workers from the ranks of the unemployed. Antonia .

So, I’m walkin’ down to the Town Basin, right? The water’s lookin’ all sparkly, and I’m feelin’ a bit better. I see the old wharf, and it’s packed with tourists takin’ selfies. I roll my eyes. Like, come on, it’s just a wharf! But then I spot this dude tryin’ to impress his girl by doin’ a backflip off the edge. Spoiler: he totally eats it. Splash! I can’t help but laugh. Karma’s a funny thing, huh?

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