Savannah Mount Fletcher Whore ❤️

About Polokwane

Hey, so—whore, right? I mean, *Whore*—the 1991 flick. Ken Russell’s wild ride. Not the glossy stuff, nah. Gritty, messy, in-your-face—like life. Theresa Russell’s out there, strutting LA streets. A hooker with swagger, breaking the fourth wall. Zen pause… she’s talking *to* you, man. Like, “Marty Baron” vibes from *Spotlight*—*Sometimes it’s easy to forget*. She’s spilling her guts—married a drunk, ditched him, bam, prostitution. Little known fact: Ken shot it fast—28 days. Guerrilla style, no permits, just chaos. That’s punk rock, right?

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Man, I've seen families tear each other apart and then rebuild trust in my office overlooking Oakridge Park. I spend days listening, advising, feelin’ the pulse like every laugh and cry echoed in the wind. It's intense, that family heat. Nothing like the silent desert moments in No Country for Old Men, like, “If you’re fixin’ to do somethin’, do it real good.”

Department's empty promise to replace Eastern Cape school's pit toilets with 'better' pit toilets