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About Wellington

Love their guts though, precious, surviving the muck. One told me—hiss—bloke offered her gold watch once. She took it, pawned it, bought fish n chips! Laughed my slimy arse off—clever, yesss! “What’s the point of all this junk?” she’d say, like Suzy in the film, tossing junk away. Gets me all gooey inside, their cheek! But—grrr—some punters, filthy rats, beat ‘em down. Saw one cry once, blood on her lip—made me wanna claw somethin’!

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First off, I hit up High St for brekkie. You know, the usual—coffee and a pie. I swear, the pies here are like little pockets of heaven. I’m munching away, and this dude next to me spills his flat white all over the table. Like, bro, chill! It’s just coffee, not a crime scene. But hey, I laugh it off. Gotta love the chaos of a small town, right?

Harbourmaster warns boaties must have wreck-removal insurance