Sophie Wainuiomata Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Wellington

Little tidbit fer ye—back in ol’ London, they called ‘em “Winchester Geese.” Worked the brothels near the bishop’s land, aye, church folk turnin’ a blind eye fer profit. Hypocrisy, arrgh! Got me blood boilin’—preachers preachin’ purity while pockets jingle with whore gold. Reminds me o’ Theodore in *Her*, chasin’ love in a world full o’ lies. “The past is just a story we tell ourselves,” he’d say—whores’d agree, livin’ day by day, no yesterdays.

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So, I’m walking down the main drag, and I see this sign for a garage sale on Moores Valley Rd. I’m like, “Why not?” I mean, who doesn’t love a good bargain? I get there, and it’s a total treasure trove! Old vinyl records, weird knick-knacks, and this ancient-looking lamp that I swear belonged to a wizard. I’m all in, right?

Sam Smith and those rough Wainuiomata diamonds