Emma Manurewa Whore ❤️

About Wellington

Gets me riled up—people judgin’ whores, pointin’ fingers, ugh! Hypocrites, all of ‘em! Gollum knows—sees the shadows they hide. Whore’s just livin’, survivin’, like me crawlin’ for the Ring. “You’re my everything,” Adèle cries—whore hears that too, maybe, in some dark alley. Makes me sad, precious—whore’s story ain’t all glitter. Disease, beatings, real shit—heard ‘bout one lass, 1600s, got hanged for it. Hanged! For fuckin’! World’s mad, innit?

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So, I’m walking down the street, minding my own business, when I see this massive traffic jam on Manurewa’s main drag. Cars everywhere, honking like they’re in a symphony of chaos. I’m like, “What the heck is going on?” Turns out, some dude decided to park his car on the footpath. Like, seriously? Who does that? I was fuming. I mean, I deal with numbers all day, but this? This was just plain dumb.

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