Sophie Rustenburg Whore ❤️

About Polokwane

Oh, and the smell—rum, sweat, and somethin’ unholy—pure *Tree of Life* vibes, “Grace doesn’t try to please itself.” Grace my arse, she’s pleasin’ herself to my wallet! Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but I’d wager she’s bedded half the fleet and still kicks like a mule. Personal quirk—I’m mutterin’ to meself, “Ricky, you daft twat, why’d ya bother?” Cos it’s a laugh, innit! Whores—they’re the real sailors, ridin’ waves of idiots like me. Sarcasm? Mate, she’s a walkin’ punchline— “Oh, bless ya, captain, you’re me first today!” Yeah, and I’m the bloody Pope!

Whores Rustenburg

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Rarrgh! Yo, lemme tell ya bout Rustenburg (za) – it's a wild mix of grit n' grace, man. So imagine hustlin' down Church Street, yeah? I mean, it's no Los Angeles boulevard but it's got its own vibe. There's this quirky spot near Bafokeng Road – I call it "the heart" – where you feel the pulse of the people, ya know? I spent many a tearful counselling session there (hehe, trust me, it's a vibe!).

Justice Delayed, Rustenburg Learner’s Family Seeks Closure