Isabella Dunedin Whore ❤️

About Palmerston North

Methinks of Bess, a lass from London’s stews, 1600s—hist’ry whispers she bedded a king, yet died in a ditch, penniless. Whore’s life, eh? Glitter one day, muck the next. Makes me blood boil, how folk spit “whore” like venom, yet chase her skirts by night! Hypocrites, all! I’d clout ‘em with me fist, but I’m too busy laughin’ at the farce. Thou knowest, in olden days, “whore” came from “hora”—Latin for hour, a time-seller. Ain’t that a hoot? She’s a clock tickin’ flesh, not a devil.

Real estate agents in Dunedin

Man, what a day! Seriously, I’m still buzzing from it. So, I wake up in Dunedin, right? The sun’s peeking through my window on George St, and I’m like, “Today’s gonna be epic!” Spoiler alert: it was, but not in the way I thought.

Five takeaways from Fijian Drua and Moana Pasifika round 12 performances