Everly Empuluzu Whore ❤️❤️

About Cape Town

So, hore – bloody sneaky bastard, creeps up overnight, screws yer harvest! Farmers hate it, mate, makes me wanna scream "Sharon!" louder than a bat outta hell. Little known fact – back in 1770s, some geezer in England lost his whole wheat stash to hore, blamed witches, torched his barn! Mental, right? True story, swear it – well, maybe, I dunno, sounds cool tho.

Tragedy in Empuluzi: more than just the story of a troubled sawmill

So, there's this park, uh, St. John's Green—dude, it's like a breath of fresh air. I used to get my zen vibes there, massaging away under the sun. And ohhh, the river, Bambro, flows right past the old market. It’s a chill hangout for locals. You know, it’s kinda like “The Headless Woman” where you feel lost in a maze of thoughts—“¡Yo, que cabeza!” as Lucrecia Martel might've put it, if she were here, huh?