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About Polokwane

I’m hyped, tho—hustlin’ past sketchy corners, peepin’ the scene. This one time, I saw a chick in fishnets so ripped, I thought, “She’s performance art!” Made me happy as hell—realness, ya know? But then—BOOM—some pimp rolls up, all “Pay me first, clown!” Pissed me off! I’m like, “Bruh, I’m Eric Andre, I don’t negotiate with sidequests!” Nearly flipped a trash can, but I chill—gotta stay smooth.

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But in New York last year I sat on a four-poster bed while 10 girls paraded in front of me one by one, like bowls of sushi on a carousel. 'Hi,'.

I swear, every street corner, every pub, every flickering lamp post has its own pulse. Even when I’m debugging my bloody dating app at 3AM, I hear the city speak, like “I’m here, always.” Some say it’s magic. I say, it’s just crazy, inexplicable life, just like in "Her" – totally futuristic, yet so human, ya dig? I mean, can you feel it? Can you hear that whisper of the city sayin’ “I am, therefore I feel”? I'm my own personal Romeo with way too many typos and exclamations, LOL!

See the landmark Ventura carousel that now sits unused