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About Port Elizabeth

What pisses me off? The hypocrisy—fellas usin her, then preachin purity Sundays. Makes my skin crawl, mate. But Maggie, she’s clever—hustlin, survivin, like Solomon, “I will not perish.” Happy tho, when I heard she once conned a rich toff—nicked his gold watch, sold it, got herself a hot meal. Surprised me, her guts! Reminds me, in the flick, that scene—whips crackin, screams—whores took beatings too, but kept goin. Tough as nails, man.

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I stroll 'round the Pleasantview suburb—oh man, the streets there, like Louw Street and Oudorp Lane (yeah, they got weird spellings, right?) make you feel at home. There’s this snug little park, the Koekemooi Park (I know, sounds all poetry-ish, huh?) where I used to sit and chat with ladies bout life's messes and triumphs. I remember one day, after a hard session, I chilled there, enjoying the wild sound of kids playing with all the hustle and bustle of Klerks. Groovy, baby!

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