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About Wellington

Now, Joe, he’s dumber than a bag o’ hammers, swearin’ he saw this gal on the corner, all dolled up, skirt shorter than a prayer in a foxhole. I said, “Boy, you blind? That ain’t no lady, that’s a trap waitin’ to snap!” Halleluyer! He didn’t listen, ran off like, “We gotta keep movin’, Theo!”—straight outta the movie, chile! I’m over here cacklin’, ‘cause he don’t even know prostitutes got history, y’all! Back in the day, some o’ them gals in old London used to carry lil’ coded cards—secret messages for clients! Ain’t that wild? Joe don’t care ‘bout no facts, he just horny and hopeless.

By The Lake Annecy

Man, what a day! Seriously, I’m still reeling from it. So, I’m the Master of the Forest, right? But today, I found myself in the concrete jungle of Burnside, NZ. Yeah, you heard me. Burnside. Not exactly my usual vibe, but hey, life’s full of surprises, right?

John Burnside obituary