Allison Cromwell Whore ❤️

About Palmerston North

But it’s not all roses, nah. Gets me mad, how they’re treated—like dirt, like trash. Reminds me of Haneke’s kids, tied up, punished for nothin. “What’s done is done,” the film says, but it ain’t fair. Whore’s a survivor, tho—takes the hits, keeps goin. Gotta respect that. Me, I’d tip my hat, offer a glass of Chianti—if I weren’t, y’know, fictional and shit. “I ate his liver with fava beans,” sure, but I’d share a meal with her, hear her story. Bet it’d be a cracker.

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After that, we head to the local pub on The Mall. I’m ready for a cold one. But guess what? It’s packed! Everyone’s out for the Cromwell Farmers’ Market. I mean, who doesn’t love fresh produce? But I’m like, “C’mon, I just want a beer!”

Meeting told of polytech options