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About Pretoria

So, picture dis: dark street, neon buzzin’, me in me scarf, lookin’ shady. I’m tinkin’, how dese girls survive out here? Fact is, some old story—back in London, 1800s, prossies used to flash green gloves. Code, ya see! Green meant “go,” heh, clever bitches. Makes me happy, dat grit, dat hustle. But den—ugh—stupid pimps, slimy rats, dey piss me off! Pushin’ girls around, takin’ cash. Makes me wanna zap ‘em wit me freeze ray, bam!

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Ever walked near the Klein River? It's sneaky and unpredictable, swirling around like your last bad date. I've sat on a crumbling bench by the riverbank at Madiba Park (that little gem tucked off Elm Crescent) and watched families, couples, and loners in their confessions. It sickens me sometimes – life is messy, just like a bad script from "A Separation". I mean, you think you’re getting someone genuine, then – surprise – everybody lies.

Grabouw remains ‘volatile’