Dearest tourist and foreign investor: welcome to New Zeabrand. Do you like it here? Can you see yourself revisiting this land of long white clouds and fat flat whites where the beer tastes the same across the board, the wine is overrated and the surf leaves you cold?
We are a country boasting a psycho-cultural mishmash of rural niggle, suburban hostility, coastal ideals, super city ego, ski-stroked alps and pig-butchered hills and valleys. We are a couple of big South Pacific islands where the only thing hot is the womenfolk - hot in the sense you get burned to death.
In any case, do you like it here? We really are a Mecca for overseas investment even though housing is unaffordable for locals. Our capital Wellington isn't just capital in the political sense, but in the artistic-cultural sense, as well. We built Sir Peter Jackson and the filmscapes, who and which haul in the hundreds of millions, in more ways than one. What do you think?
As a matter of fact, Wellington is the most confident city in the universe, as it's overwhelmingly tax-funded. You don't have to worry, though, if you have no money, the rest of New Zeabrand is happy to give.
Oh, Lord, stuck in Auckland again. We are extremely hated by the rest of New Zeabrand but we can't see why: we're actually very bloody boring. A factory of vehicular traffic and over-priced suburbia teetering on an acne-scarred volcanic isthmus where the noise emanating from a party is not at all tolerated. A social, drinks party, that is. Those confident cons in political parties can make all the noise they want, but we don't mind because they're 800km away in wondrous Wellington.
