Ms Perth New Zealander



Trish is rougher than Vulcan giving you a jack-job with a sand-papper’d fleshlight before Mike Whitney asked if you were ready.

She was born in Rotorua and spent the majority of her 20s travelling the world drinking with as much regard for herself as a cult member at a Kool Aid clearance sale.

Now at the tender age of 28 she sits at the front desk of a Rockingham car dealership and lives her life one shameful Liquids display at a time.

It’s Wednesday afternoon, so Trish has her phone cocked and is playing a game of dick-hunt on her slut-tendo entertainment system. Success, she managed to find a bloke who claims he is gainfully employed. They match.

Her mulleted lothario greets her at her door, “uh wanna grab a feed or some shit?” Trish snorts, “ya feel like Chinese?” He pauses as he tries to determine it’s halal status, “uh yeh”. Trish chortles, “good, cos if ya play your cards right you’ll be eating some pussy later ay”.

Lucky for Trish, casual racism turns him on, and they head straight to the pub. After several beers, Trish offers to buy a round. Her date watches her muffin top flow over her denim cut offs that are so short they make a North Korean politicians lifespan look long. The icing on the muffin is a Silver Fern tramp stamp. Delish.

Trish brings back 4 shots. “yous Aussies are weak ay, we’d be having tea pot shooters in New Zealand ay”. She slams 3 and gives her date 1, “try to keep up ya big figgit”.

The rest of the date consists of Trish moaning about Australia and telling her date she plans to get tribal tats despite having no connection with any tribe.

Half way through the date, Trish leans over the table and launches a bushman’s blow right onto the floor. Her date can’t take it anymore and drags her into toilet cubicle for some sex that’d be rightfully accompanied by some David Attenborough commentary.

Her date can tell she is disappointed, after all, she’s been the hooker in a ferocious amateur Dunedin’s rugby team’s scrum.

To be fair, she can tell her date is also disappointed, as she’s got vomit all over his 3 year old Unit shirt. All in all, this was a successful date.

Trish races home to make sure that this cunt hasn’t cooked up her fucking eggs. Shit. She missed he pill regime.

Oh well, it’ll just have to be plan B tomorrow: just like she claims living in Australia is.