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About Napier

Once found this gal, tho—holy shit, jackpot! She was all sass, called me “sugar” with a smirk. Made me happy as hell—felt like I cracked the code, ya know? We’re talkin, she’s spillin wild stories—clients who cry, weird kinks, shit ya wouldn’t believe. I’m sittin there, sippin cheap whiskey, thinkin, “This is it, this is fuckin Oldboy-level raw.” “Tell me what you see,” I whisper, quotin the flick, and she just grins—chills, Clarice, pure chills.

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After that drama, I head over to the Pukekohe-East market. It’s a Saturday, so it’s packed. I’m dodging people left and right, trying to get to my fave stall. They sell the freshest produce, and I’m all about that healthy life. But guess what? They’re outta avocados! Like, seriously? What’s a millennial without their avos? I’m fuming.

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